


Vampires Aren't Real

by ThatSameSong



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Pizza Place, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Bisexual Character, Demonic Possession, Demons, Eventual Romance, F/F, Gen, Horror, Lesbian Character, No One Has Any Idea What They're Doing, Non-human characters, Paranormal, Spooktober, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2020-11-23 00:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 97,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20882852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSameSong/pseuds/ThatSameSong
Summary: Bonnie: "Vampires aren't real."Marceline:  "Well, actually...."





	1. Pizza and Stuff

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Spook Month! Here's my contribution to the best month of the year. A good old-fashioned "skeptic-turned-believer" story, except this time it's vampires (among other things) instead of ghosts.

After doing this for a while, Pris knew the drill. Sit in the booth, listen, and withhold judgment. He knew it wasn't his place to question or condemn sinners. He was a witness, a viewing window for Grod’s divine plan. Even if his faith shifted from day to day, Pris was pretty sure he was still a believer. From his point of view, the fact that he parked himself in that booth every day was more than enough proof.

So when the boy--red-faced and soaked from the rain--entered the church that night and sat down on the other side of the booth, Pris was ready. He was patient and quiet, waiting to receive whatever sorry story this poor kid had for him.

The boy was about sixteen years old. Long blonde hair--drenched from the downpour--fell over his shoulders and down his back. He was wearing an oversized comfy-looking hoodie and a pair of generic blue jeans. He had backpack when he first entered the church, but he dropped it before going into the booth.

When a whole five minutes passed and the boy didn't speak, Pris cleared his throat.

"Why have you come here, my child?" he said.

He could hear water dripping. The boy must have walked all the way through that storm just to get there. What kind of parents let their kid outside on a night like this? Wasn't it past his bedtime?

The boy finally spoke. His voice was pained and scratchy, like he'd spent the last ten minutes screaming his lungs out.

"I didn't know where else to go," he said.

Pris nodded, but he kept his mouth shut. The boy seemed to be in some kind of trouble. Maybe that was why he was wandering around by himself in the rain? Was this about his parents? Was he on the run from an abusive household or something?

"I-I think," the boy started.

He swallowed, choking down a sob as it ballooned in his throat. His shoulders shook, his fingers clawing at the legs of his jeans. The boy's hands moved in abrupt jerky motions.

"I think I killed my brother," said the boy.

Pris clutched at the holy book resting in his lap. It was times like these that his faith in Grod really came in handy. Without his beliefs to prop him up, Pris wouldn't have had the strength to listen to the boy's story.

* * *

One month earlier, in the small town of Candace, Bonnibel Gunn--or "Bonnie" as she was more frequently known--had just finished her last delivery. 

Working at a pizza place had its perks, or at least that's what her boss said. Honestly, Bonnie had yet to find that mystical diamond buried in a pile of utter shit. Not that it mattered. Diamonds were worthless anyway, despite the lies pumped out by those fat cat executives. 

At least there was the free pizza. Once in a blue moon, a customer failed to pick up their order and Bonnie got to take the uneaten food home. But after a while, even that supposed perk lost its novelty. In such a relatively small town, it just didn't happen often enough for Bonnie to get excited. The only change of pace she actually looked forward to were the occasional prank calls from dumb teens and middle-schoolers.

Bonnie hopped off her moped, unloaded the empty delivery containers, and walked through the front door. Working late on the weekend as usual. Catering to a steady stream of college kids and high-schoolers. The nearby campus was pretty much the only reason this place was still in business.

"I'm out, chief," said Bonnie.

She pulled off the stupid cap she had to wear--it had the place's logo and name stamped across the front--and plopped it down on the counter. Ugh. She hated deliveries. It was always a bunch of frat boys or some blazed idiots goofing off. Fridays were the worst.

Max--her boss--dragged his greasy fingers across his T-shirt, leaving a gross trail. He was wearing that expensive sports jacket--the one with the enormous sleeves--that he liked to show off. Bonnie got tired of seeing it during her first week, but of course the guy wore it every single flipping day. He would have looked naked without it.

"Excuse me, what?" said Max.

He'd been running Pizza Sassy for a good fifty years--not true at all. Bonnie checked and the place had only been open for five years, plus Max couldn't have been older than mid-thirties--and he'd made zero changes since opening day. Same booths, same royalty-free music over the speakers, same tiled floor and busted soda machine.

Fun fact: Max bought that soda machine for twenty bucks at an auction. It broke within a week of use and he refused to replace it. It just sat in the corner with an Out of Order sign. He told Bonnie the whole story during her initial interview.

"I'm, uh, done for the day," said Bonnie.

Max leaned forward, elbows on the counter. He grinned at her, his head propped up on his hands.

"Oh no no no no," he said. "You're far from done, Bonnibel."

He dropped his gaze to the counter, tracing random shapes with his finger. His fingernails, beard, and mustache were perfectly groomed, giving Max a put-together look that was more than a little misleading. If it hadn't been for the grease on Max's shirt, he would have looked somewhat handsome.

Bonnie folded her arms.

"Shift's over," she said. "No more deliveries tonight."

Max shook his head, tutting at her like a disapproving hen. He spoke in a sing-songy voice, resting a hand under his chin and tilting his head like a curious cat.

"No no no, Bonnie my dear," he said. "I've still got some work for you. Yes I do, yes I do."

He abruptly snapped back to his normal voice, straightening up and smoothing down his ruined shirt. For a split second, Max almost looked like, well, the boss and owner of a mildly successful pizza place. But the illusion was gone in seconds. Max was just a guy in the most expensive--and greasy--outfit Bonnie had ever seen. He was a man in an overpriced sports jacket and pants that weren't the least bit suited to his actual job.

"You know that new delivery girl?" said Max. "About 5'7? Long black hair? Pale as a baby's bottom?"

Bonnie had no clue what he was talking about. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Um, no?" she said.

Max lifted his leg and plopped it onto the counter. He pressed both hands against his lower back and stretched, letting out a long groan of exertion.

"Oh?" he said. "Oh yeah, totally forgot to tell you. Totes my fault, Big B. I'm such a lovable scamp."

He stretched and groaned again, making Bonnie flinch.

"So I hired a new delivery girl," he said. "You don't mind giving her some pointers, do you? Just want to make sure she gets it, you know? You remember your first night on the job, don't you?"

Bonnie slammed her palm into her forehead and sighed. Really? Why tonight of all nights? Was Max trying to make her life nightmarish?

"What the stuff, man?" said Bonnie. "I'm your delivery girl!"

She knew it was a dumb thing to be ticked off about. But it was the only thing she could think of, because everything else was so incomprehensible to her.

"Why the flip would you hire another delivery person?" said Bonnie. "That's hecking banana-bonzo-bread."

Bonnie just didn't get it. They had a system. They had a way to do things that worked better than all the other ways. Bonnie and Finn did deliveries, the kitchen staff handled the food, and Max pretended to do his job. And somehow it worked out perfectly, like a well-oiled machine or a carefully-crafted sandwich.

Max snapped his fingers.

"You're right," he said. "It is banana-bonkers-bears. Imagine that."

He threw back his head and laughed. Max finally slid his leg off the counter, still guffawing as if he'd just told the funniest joke in the universe. Bonnie wished she was in on it, because she didn't find any of this funny. But Max was just loving it. And the longer Bonnie stood there silently seething, the more Max cracked up at his own unmatched sense of humor.

Fortunately, the arrival of the new delivery girl finally shut him up.

She emerged--that was really the best word for it--from the back. As Max had promised, she was about 5'7. She had long dark hair, curtains of it falling down the sides of her face and along her back. She brushed the hair from her face, grinning and showing off some unusually long canines. She was definitely walking, but there was a gracefulness to how she moved. If Bonnie hadn't known any better, she would have assumed this new delivery girl was gliding a half-inch or so off the floor because she moved so smoothly.

"Ah, here she is," said Max. "Margaret."

The girl gave Bonnie a quick once-over, crossing her arms.

"Marceline," she said. "Marcy. Marcy Abadeer."

Feigning politeness, Bonnie stuck out her hand. She swallowed a few snarky comments about Marcy's weird last name. After all, she worked for a guy whose last name was King and whose middle name was Hustler. Another juicy detail Max had dropped during the very brief job interview. Maxwell Hustler King.

"Bonnibel," said Bonnie. "Bonnibel Gunn."

Marcy took Bonnie's hand and shook it. She was making a lot of eye contact, that slightly crap-eating smile frozen on her face. Even under the near-blinding lights of Pizza Sassy, Marcy looked pale. In fact, her skin almost looked pure white under those bright lights. Marcy looked like she hadn't seen the sun in ages.

"Nice meeting you, Bonnibel," said Marcy.

Max clapped his hands together.

"Tick tock," he said. "Tick tock. The night is young, ladies. The night is young and the pizza is fresh."

Bonnie sighed. Of course. She was supposed to accompany Marcy on her first delivery. It was standard procedure, something Bonnie didn't think she'd ever have to put up with. She wanted to ask if Finn could do it, but she didn't want to advertise how ticked off she felt. She could at least fake being neutral about this.

Bonnie gestured towards the front door. She slapped on her best customer service smile, grinning wide enough to show way too many teeth.

"Let's go," she said.

She grabbed her cap from the counter and returned it to her head. Bonnie frowned as she adjusted it, a shudder of disgust sprinting up her spine. Bonnie was pretty sure her cap had been less greasy a minute ago.

Marcy wasn't wearing the standard uniform, or at least not all of it. She'd ditched the cap--something Max normally wouldn't tolerate--and she was wearing a letterman jacket. Marcy kept the shirt, but Bonnie had a feeling the sleeves were ripped off or something. Alterations to the uniform were a hundred percent not allowed.

They were walking, although Bonnie would have preferred the moped. But the address was within walking distance, so Bonnie decided it wasn't worth the trouble. Those cheap mopeds only worked about fifty-percent of the time. Bonnie didn't want anymore headaches. Her patience was already being ground into a fine powder.

"So I guess you're new," said Bonnie.

Bonnie tried to keep her head down, but she definitely would have noticed a tall pale girl running around town.

Marcy had her hands shoved into her pockets. She was staring up at the night sky as they walked.

"Sure, you could say that," said Marcy.

Bonnie cleared her throat. By her estimate, that was enough small talk. Bonnie had some stuff to say. And she needed Max to be out of earshot. Bonnie didn't need another halfhearted lecture from Max about employee etiquette and her so-called "uptight-a-tude".

"And you're late," said Bonnie. "You can't just come in whenever you want."

She almost added that she was never late. Bonnie was always there promptly at opening time. Max hardly ever enforced his own rules, but Bonnie stuck to them. If she hadn't, there probably wouldn't have been anyone doing their actual job on a regular basis. Showing up on time was the least Bonnie could do.

Marcy shrugged.

"Boss man says I can come in after dark," she said.

Bonnie frowned, skeptical. She could believe Max just didn't give a dingle-dangle about promptness, but him actually telling Marcy she could come in after dark? Him being openly flexible about the hours? Bonnie doubted it, but she didn't know enough to call Marcy out. It was possible, just not very likely.

"Well, at least try to be here before we close," said Bonnie.

Marcy groaned, tucking her arms behind her head.

"Oh, really?" she said. "Are you my boss now, Bonnibel?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. She didn't think she was being unreasonable. Whatever strange deal Marcy had made with Max, Bonnie wasn't having any of it. This felt less like walking a pizza to someone's house and more like a very aggressive briefing.

"You can't just do whatever you want," said Bonnie.

Marcy pressed a hand to the side of her face and opened her mouth, feigning surprise.

"Whoa, really?" she said. "I did not know that. Good tip, Bonnibel. I'll keep that in mind."

Bonnie groaned. There was no way she'd been this insufferable on her first day. Max had put zero thought into hiring Bonnie, because he put zero thought into anything business-related. But Bonnie still worked her ass off to prove she could do her job, even if Max didn't give a crap. But Marcy seemed to be on the extreme opposite of Bonnie's work ethic. And Bonnie was probably going to have to put up with her for a long time.

They finally reached the house. A big old house that had probably been there for ages. 

Bonnie hung back. She watched Marcy march up to the front door with the pizza. Maybe whatever Marcy lacked in positive energy, she made up for with great people skills. That was something they could use on their team. 

Marcy raised her first and pounded on the door, balancing the pizza on her other hand.

"Yo, man!" she shouted. "I got your pizza, dingus!"

After two whole minutes of knocking, the door opened. A buff man wearing a tank top and a pair of cut-off jeans was standing in the doorway. His hair was perfectly-styled and his upper lip was covered by a bushy mustache.

"Ah, my repast has arrived," said the man. "A welcome treat after spending all day working on my impressive physique."

He flexed slightly as he spoke, showing off his massive tree trunk arms. Bonnie recognized the guy: Mr. Cups, a semi-regular. He ordered from them—always vegetarian—about once a week. And sometimes he dropped in during his jogs for a cold drink. 

Marcy shoved the pizza into his hands.

"Whatever, dude," she said.

She held out her hand.

The guy didn't seem put off by her attitude, although he probably didn't really notice it. He was too busy flexing and admiring his own muscles. He was putting on a little show--mostly for himself--as he reached into his pocket and grabbed his wallet. He took his sweet time counting out the cash.

"Keep the change," he said.

Marcy didn't count the bills. She just shoved them into her pocket and nodded. She instantly turned and left, waving at the guy over her shoulder like they were old friends. For his part, Mr. Cups didn’t seem to mind. He just waved back at her, standing in the doorway for a few extra seconds as Marcy returned to the sidewalk. 

She met Bonnie on the sidewalk. It was a cold night, but Marcy wasn't even shivering. That made sense. Unlike Bonnie, Marcy was actually dressed for the weather. That jacket must have made a big difference.

"So how'd I do, Bonnibel?" said Marcy.

Bonnie didn't answer. She wasn't sure Marcy even wanted an answer. Was this all a game to her? Was this really how people got their kicks these days? Bonnie couldn't believe she'd trusted Max for even a split second. The guy was an incompetent jackass and that was pretty much it. Bonnie couldn't argue with the mountains of evidence. 

Bonnie turned and started walking away. She hoped Marcy would take the hint and wander off somewhere. Bonnie was fine with walking all the way back by herself. Candace was one of the safest towns in the world. There hadn't been a violent crime there for a whole fifty or sixty years. It was nerve-wracking, but Bonnie was confident that she'd be fine. Plus she had training. If someone tried anything, she could definitely defend herself.

But Marcy was apparently too dense to realize she was being snubbed. Or maybe she actually wanted to keep this job for some reason. Either way, Marcy wasn't getting left behind. She followed Bonnie, coming up beside her and flashing that grin.

"Nice night, huh?" said Marcy. "Reminds me of when I was a kid."

Again, Bonnie resisted the urge to make a snarky comment. Something along the lines of "What, two years ago?" Or probably something even more clever and emotionally devastating. Bonnie just didn't get Marcy's deal. She didn't get why Marcy was there, what she was trying to do, or why any of this was happening.

So Bonnie latched onto one question she was pretty sure Marcy would answer. It had been bugging the heck out of her since Marcy said it. But Bonnie didn't ask at first, because she was too ticked to think straight. Now that her head was more or less in order, Bonnie decided to take a stab at solving one little mystery. She needed to know just one thing about Marceline Abadeer. And once Bonnie got her answer, she could settle into a nice Marcy-less existence, even if it meant pretending that Marcy didn't exist.

"So why exactly can you only work after dark?" said Bonnie.

She was thinking "day job", although she couldn't even fathom what that might be.

Marcy stopped in her tracks. She shoved her hands into her pockets, her grin spreading even wider. Lips pulled back to expose those unusually sharp canines again. Her eyes slightly wide and shining in the moonlight. There was something weirdly animalistic about her face. It was subtle, but she had this slightly wolfish quality. It really only came out when Marcy smiled like that.

"Oh dip, Boss Man didn't tell you?" said Marcy.

She tossed her hair and laughed. For a split second, Bonnie could have sworn Marcy's eyes flashed red. But that had to be a trick of the light. Because that was impossible. Human eyes didn't do that. For that matter, the sharp high-pitched laugh that came out of Marcy's mouth sounded vaguely unnatural. There was suddenly this very subtle yet somehow overwhelming sense of strangeness just throbbing out of her. It struck Bonnie somewhere deep in her bones.

Marcy stopped laughing. She locked eyes with Bonnie, a deep penetrating gaze that went straight into Bonnie's chest.

"I'm a vampire," she said.

Bonnie suddenly felt very cold and very warm at the exact same time. It was a jarring and unpleasant feeling.


	2. Science and Stuff

Logically, Bonnie knew vampires weren't real. Logically, she knew that the existence of any supernatural creature was questionable at best. Logically, she knew that this wasn't just her being a skeptic. This was--without a single doubt--the most logical conclusion to come to after any amount of research. Bonnie wasn't an idiot. She knew ghost stories were bullshit and cheesy romance novels about sexy vampires were just fiction. Bonnie had known both of these things as absolute facts since she was a child.

But as Bonnie biked to work on Monday, her brain kept getting pulled back to that eventful Friday night. A night of deliveries that ended with the weirdest encounter Bonnie had ever expected to have with a new employee.

"I'm a vampire," Marcy had said with a straight face.

And Bonnie had said the only thing that made sense in the moment, the only reply that encapsulated everything she was feeling.

"Vampires aren't real, ya donk." 

Not her proudest response, but Bonnie stood by it. Because vampires definitely weren't real. Bonnie knew that for an absolute complete utter fact. It was indisputable.

However. 

There was the little problem of Marcy's unusually pale skin, those sharp canines of hers, the way she moved, that strange thing with the eyes.

Bonnie slowed to a stop in front of Pizza Sassy. She leaned her bike against the building and locked it up. Bonnie maintained a perfect one hundred percent record of never having her bike stolen. She planned to keep that record for as long as possible.

She jammed the key into the lock and turned, leaning on the door to open it. Sharp canines weren't really that unusual, if Bonnie actually thought about it. Neither was pale skin. And that eye thing had most likely been a trick of Bonnie's tired brain. Eyes didn't do that. They just didn't. 

And Marcy didn't move in ways that were impossible. She was graceful, but graceful like a practiced dancer. Someone light on their feet. Someone who knew what they were doing.

Bonnie stepped into Pizza Sassy, tucking the keys back into her pocket. Max was supposed to open the place every day, but of course he was always late. Bonnie was usually the first one there. Thank god Max gave her a set of keys. Bonnie couldn't even imagine waiting outside for two or three hours past opening.

She walked over to the counter. So why was Marcy even on her mind? Bonnie had met tons of girls just like Marcy in high school. They weren't special.

"I'm a vampire." 

Bonnie shook her head. Why had she even expected a serious answer? Marcy clearly wasn't capable of taking anything seriously. Even a job at a crappy pizza place was too beneath Marcy for her to care. Bonnie wondered what kind of parents or parent raised someone like that. Must have been a strange family.

But there was undoubtedly something weird about Marcy. Not supernatural, because that was just dumb. But there was definitely something odd there. And Bonnie wasn't sure how she was going to figure it out.

She pushed open the kitchen door and headed inside.

Bonnie couldn't simply ask Marcy. She knew exactly what she'd get: snarky answers like the one from last night. If Bonnie attacked this directly, she'd just end up getting frustrated. And that wasn't going to work, because Bonnie legitimately wanted to know. It pained her to admit this, but she was interested in Marcy.

There was only one thing Bonnie could do. She needed to study Marceline. Bonnie needed to start keeping detailed notes on her activities, learning everything about her. It was the only way Bonnie was going to satiate this growing hunger for answers. It was the only approach that made sense to her as a scientist.

But there was one huge glaring problem: Marcy couldn't know that Bonnie was studying her. If the subject became self-aware, it would taint the experience. Bonnie needed raw data. And that required keeping Marcy in the dark.

Bonnie fired up the oven. Keeping Marcy in the dark was the easy part. The hard part would be collecting and analyzing the data she needed.

But Bonnie could handle that. She had experience.

* * *

For the next week, Bonnie was on Marceline watch.

That's what she called it. It was like studying a wild animal in an enclosure at the zoo. Fascinating, but also a little sad. And necessary if Bonnie wanted to understand some of the subject's stranger behavior. Her sanity seemed like a worthy sacrifice for the cause.

As promised, Marceline only showed her face after the sun went down. With Pizza Sassy open well into the evenings, this wasn't really a problem. Max insisted on keeping the place open until eleven at night for the blazed college kids and high-schoolers who got the munchies. Bonnie had zero proof, but she was pretty sure Max was selling weed and stuff to the local students. It was accidentally a pretty sound business practice.

The first thing Bonnie noticed--after about three days of watching--was that Marcy didn't go home. She left after closing like everyone else, but Bonnie never actually saw Marcy leave Pizza Sassy. She'd just sort of disappear while Bonnie was doing whatever extra work she’d been assigned. Bonnie never heard the front door open or close. Did Marcy go out the back and circle around or something? Why would she do that? Caution? Paranoia?

Bonnie decided to take the direct approach. She went up to Marcy and asked her where she lived.

Marcy was loading up one of the mopeds for a late night delivery. Those mopeds were older than the pizza place. Supposedly they were treasured mementos from Max's college days. And despite being crappy, they actually worked pretty well. Bonnie never bothered asking Max why he had a whole fleet of mopeds in college.

Marcy straightened up, sweeping her hair out of her face. So much hair. Bonnie had to step back to avoid getting whapped in the face by it. The sight of it made Bonnie want to chop off her own hair just to make it more manageable. At least Bonnie rocked a nice ponytail when she was on duty.

She turned to Bonnie and grinned.

"Ooooh, does little Bon-Bon want to follow me home?" she said.

Bonnie folded her arms, flinching at the nickname like it physically hurt. Three days. Three flipping days. She should have been used to all this by now. Bonnie was glad she only worked at Pizza Sassy four days a week. Any extra time with Marcy would have been a nightmare. Plus Bonnie needed that off time to go over her notes.

Marcy fastened her helmet, pulling the strap across her chin and clipping it into place.

"Where do you live, Bonnibel?" she said.

Bonnie furrowed her brow. She wanted to be ticked off, but technically she asked first. Couldn't really blame Marcy for turning it back on her. And maybe if Bonnie at least pretended to be okay with it, she might get some actual info out of Marcy.

"Um, apartment," said Bonnie. "Near that bakery."

She hugged herself, shivering from the cold.

Marcy was showing a lot more skin tonight. Marcy had ditched the letterman jacket in favor of a gray tank top and a pair of ripped jeans. But she wasn't reacting to the cold at all, even as Bonnie--wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of really thick pants--was almost freezing her ass off.

"Coolest Apartments?" said Marcy.

It was a good guess, given that there was only one apartment complex in Candace.

Bonnie nervously played with her hair. Crap. She should have lied and said she lived by the train tracks or something. Too late. No take-backs.

"Yeah," said Bonnie. "That bakery has, like, the best tarts. Totes banyangles."

She tried to smile, hoping this came off as a normal conversation instead of a desperate probe for information. It had kind of morphed into both. Those really were the best tarts in Candace, maybe the whole world. They were also hella expensive. Bonnie hadn't had one since her last birthday.

"Nice," said Marcy.

She hopped on the moped. Marcy wiggled a little, adjusting herself on the seat and getting comfortable. She twisted around in her seat and waved at Bonnie as she sped off, long hair streaming behind her like a curtain.

Holding her arm, Bonnie waved back.

So no answers that night, but Bonnie had plenty of old data to analyze. Marcy was just like any other subject. Bonnie couldn't expect Marcy to give her everything right away. Bonnie needed to work for it. It was too bad she didn't have unlimited free time. Bonnie really wanted to know Marcy's deal.

Finn appeared, the front door swinging shut behind him as he stepped out of Pizza Sassy.

"You okay out here?" he said.

Bonnie exhaled, fighting back an eye roll. Of course she was freaking okay. She'd only been out there for, what? Ten minutes? And Marcy was right there, or at least she had been less than two minutes ago.

"Yes, Finn," said Bonnie.

She turned around and gave him a double thumbs-up and a huge fake grin. Bonnie was fully aware that Finn was into her. He hadn't exactly been subtle about his little crush. But if he wasn't going to bring it up, Bonnie was okay with ignoring the subject. It was actually kind of fascinating, the way the human brain manufactured so many emotions to cope with basic human needs. Bonnie really wanted to hook Finn up to one of her homemade brain scan machines, but that probably would have violated some kind of rule about employee conduct.

Finn rubbed the back of his head. He had his long hair tied into a ponytail for work. He thought it looked silly, but Bonnie was grateful he took his job seriously.

Bonnie grabbed Finn's shoulder, causing his cheeks to flush. She guided him inside, getting them both out of the cold and into the nice warm pizza place.

They settled in one of the booths, sitting across from each other.

Kara had her earphones in, bobbing her head to some song as she scrubbed booths. She didn't seem to notice Finn or Bonnie. She was completely in the zone. It wasn't exactly closing time, but it was never too early to make sure the place was spotless.

"So, thoughts on Marceline?" said Bonnie.

Finn folded his arms on the table.

"The sexy vampire lady?" he said.

Her calm demeanor shattering, Bonnie groaned in frustration and dragged a hand through her hair.

"Vampires aren't donking real!" said Bonnie. "Ghosts, werewolves, vampires. It's all nutso, Finn. Totes nutso."

Finn nervously rubbed the back of his neck. Upsetting Bonnie was never fun. And it wasn't like he didn't know she'd freak out. But Finn had to be honest with her.

"I know, BB," said Finn. "Usually I'd think this stuff was some serious nutso. But I don't know, man. I kind of believe her. I mean, what's with the only showing up after dark thing?"

Bonnie folded her arms. She couldn't believe Finn was being this dumb.

"Seriously?" said Bonnie. "Photosensitivity. She's allergic to the sun and trying to play us."

Finn thought for a minute.

"Okay, so what about the fangs?" said Finn.

Bonnie leaned back in her seat. Of course Finn didn't know about her research. He didn't know that she'd thought about all of this a dozen times. Pages and pages of detailed notes within a single document.

"They're not fangs, you butt," said Bonnie. "They're just abnormally sharp canines. She needs to get them filed down."

Finn leaned forward and spoke quietly, like he was revealing some kind of secret.

"I totally saw her eyes flash red one time," he said.

Bonnie threw up her hands, giving Finn her best look of total frustration. Marcy was way too good at convincing people that she wasn't full of crap. Maybe that was how she got hired. Not that tricking Max was difficult.

"Dude, that's a trick of the light!" said Bonnie. "Haven't you ever seen red eye in photographs? She's in your dome, man. She's making you see things."

Finn looked a lot less sure of himself. And why wouldn't he? Everything Bonnie said made complete sense. And now he was starting to doubt he'd seen anything weird.

Bonnie stood up. This conversation hadn't gone in the direction she wanted, but she hoped Finn had learned his lesson. Finn was an overall good guy, but sometimes he was too naive. Maybe it had something to do with his home life.

"Finn, vampires aren't real," said Bonnie. "You're being nanners."

She didn't mean to sound so harsh. She understood how Finn fell for Marcy's dumb little prank. But she was getting sick of this bullshit. The joke stopped being funny after that first night. But Marcy just kept messing with them.

Finn jumped out of his seat. He'd just remembered that he was supposed to be working. Working at Pizza Sassy didn't feel like much of a job, but Finn tried not be a slacker. If it wasn't for his and Bonnie's work ethic, the place would have gone under. And Kara and Moe helped too, because Kara and Moe were awesome.

Finn rushed to grab a mop and start scrubbing the floor. He knew Bonnie wanted the place spotless.

  


* * *

  
  
  
Finn shouted his brother’s name, throwing his jacket over the back of an armchair.  
  
He was always like this after a long day at Pizza Sassy. It wasn’t the most physically or emotionally taxing work he’d ever done, but it was definitely up there. Mostly it was having to constantly cover Max’s ass. Honestly, Finn didn’t even feel like Max owned or ran the place. Bonnie did a good chunk of the work. It was like they were all playing the boss while Max goofed off. And if that had been the original arrangement, Finn would have been stoked. But Max clearly thought of himself as the ringleader.   
  
Finn flopped into the armchair, letting out a long sigh. Bonnie. Crap. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten into a fight with her. Not even a fight. More like a verbal sparring match. Except instead of winning, they both just sort of dropped it. And all because Bonnie couldn’t accept that Marceline was totally a vampire. Seriously, how could she not see it?   
  
On the other hand, maybe Bonnie was right. There were a ton of better explanations for Marcy’s weirdness. But Finn chose to believe Marcy because….because…. Well, okay, Finn didn’t really have a good reason to think Marcy was telling the truth. It was more of a feeling deep in his gut.  
  
Jake came into the living room. He was tip-tapping on his phone, eyes hanging on the small rectangular screen. He managed to drag his attention away from social media long enough to smile at Finn. Jake’s phone twittered out a series of notification sounds as he looked up, like it was pissed about being ignored. It clearly took a considerable amount of willpower for Jake to keep his eyes on Finn.   
  
“Hey, buddy-bro,” said Jake. “You okay?”   
  
Finn grabbed the arms of his chair and leaned back.  
  
“Work is bunk, man,” he said.  
  
He raised both his hands and waved them around.  
  
“Check it,” he said. “So there’s this new girl at Pizza Sassy. And I swear to Grod there’s something weird about her. But Bonnie’s being all science and math about it. She doesn’t believe this girl’s a vampire.”  
  
Jake flinched at the dreaded V word. Ever since he watched a bunch of old vampire movies, he’d been terrified of those undead freaks. He didn’t get this whole sexy vampire craze. Teenagers were donking insane. Those cold clammy hands, those empty eyes. Ugh. How could anyone get all hot and bothered about a walking corpse?   
  
“If Bonnie says she’s not a vampire, she’s probably not, dude,” said Jake.  
  
Finn shook his head.  
  
“No, man, I saw it,” said Finn. “She’s totally a vampire or a zombie or something.”  
  
Jake shrugged.  
  
“Nah,” he said. “It’s just made up for movies and junk. If that stuff was real, we’d all be dead as dead.”  
  
Finn jumped out of his chair. He was getting sick of being talked to like he was a kid. He was almost seventeen, for Glob’s sake. Why did everyone feel comfortable just brushing him off?   
  
Giving up, Finn stormed into the bedroom he shared with Jake. He closed the door behind him, a nice hard slam that shook all the bedroom shelves. He was briefly—before the anger settled inside his chest again—worried that something important might tumble off its shelf and crash into the floor. But Finn didn’t really care. Only half the stuff was his.   
  
Jake called to Finn from the living room.  
  
“You’d better not bunk up my stuff, dude!” he said.  
  
Finn hopped onto his bed, burying his face in the pillow. He knew he was acting like a child—which didn’t really help his case—but Finn didn’t care. He was so tired of being treated like he was five.  
  
Grumbling about Jake being a buttface, Finn flipped onto his back. He dug his phone out of his pocket. It was one of those ancient flip phones. Jake told Finn it belonged to their dad—their dad—and he’d found it in one of the many unmarked boxes filled with their parents’ stuff. Most of their parents’ junk was in the attic, stacked and tucked away. Jake probably hadn’t thought about those boxes in a long time.   
  
Finn called the one person he knew would believe him, the one person who might actually treat him like an adult. He knew Jake would be pissed if he found out, but Finn didn’t care. Finn would be more ticked off at himself for not trying.  
  
He arranged a meet-up. Finn emphasized this whole thing being a secret, even though Finn felt scummy about keeping something like this from his brother. But it wasn’t like Finn was doing anything shady. He was just asking a friend for some advice and guidance. The fact that Jake was being kept in the dark was just an unfortunate sacrifice. Maybe when this was all over, Finn would tell Jake everything. But for now, he was better off keeping his mouth shut.  
  
Finn opened the bedroom door a crack and peeked out. He’d only been in there for about twenty minutes, but he was pretty sure Jake had given up.  
  
Sure enough, Jake was asleep on the couch. He was lying with his phone on his chest, strands of curly straw-colored hair all over his face. Jake was snoring, arms folded over his stomach.   
  
Grabbing his coat off the armchair, Finn felt a twinge of genuine guilt. Jake worked so hard. He took odd jobs just to keep a roof over their heads, balancing his fluctuating career as a freelance entertainer with whatever random work he could find. Finn was trying to help, working at Pizza Sassy and doing some furniture moving for a local company. But sometimes they both got stressed and Finn knew it wasn’t fair to blow up at Jake.   
  
Finn zipped up his coat. It was late—ten minutes after midnight—but this couldn’t wait until morning. He needed to prove he wasn’t going nuts. Maybe if Finn proved he was right about Marcy, he’d feel better about getting so pissed at Jake and throwing a tantrum.  
  
He didn’t leave a note. Finn wasn’t going very far. He’d probably be back before Jake even realized he was gone.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Finn met his friend at an all-night coffee place. Finn didn’t like coffee—it made him jittery—but he ordered a cup of hot chocolate while he waited the usual ten minutes.  
  
He bit his lip, clutching the table like he thought it might float off. His sins just kept piling up. But if his friend had agreed to this, there was no way it was bad, right? Even if Finn was doing this behind Jake’s back, it wasn’t like he was completely demolishing Jake’s trust. The two of them—Finn and this friend of his—used to hang out a lot back in the day. Usually it was the three of them. This covert meeting was making Finn feel gross, but he was too late to back out.  
  
He sipped his cocoa while he waited, barely tasting the rich chocolaty goodness. Finn wasn’t sure how he was going to approach this. He hadn’t really explained himself over the phone. He just said it was “urgent”, which might have given the impression that he was in danger. But Finn’s friend had to know he was okay, right? If Finn had really been in danger, he would have gone to Bonnie or Jake. Unless, of course, Bonnie or Jake were the ones causing the trouble. That wasn’t too far from the truth.   
  
Finn heard the bell above the door tinkle. He stared into his cup of cocoa, realizing how weird he must have looked. Some random teenager inside an all-night coffee place after midnight. Finn knew he looked younger than his sixteen years. People constantly mistook him for a twelve-year-old and it wasn’t the least bit fun.  
  
Someone sat down across from Finn, setting their bag aside as they settled into their chair.  
  
Finn snapped his head up. He was relieved. Finn wasn’t scared about being out this late, but he was starting to get worried that his friend might not show up.  
  
The woman sitting across from Finn was tall. She was wearing the most blinding collection of colors Finn had ever seen. A lot of yellows, reds, and greens clashing with each other in one simple outfit. The rainbow stockings completed her bizarre and visually aggressive look. The woman placed her phone on the table, unicorn phone charm swinging back and forth as she pulled it out of her bag. A long pale blonde ponytail—dyed blonde—bounced when she moved her head.   
  
She said something in Korean. Finn slightly understood—he’d spent enough time around her to pick up a few things—but he wasn’t entirely sure what she meant.  
  
The woman switched to English, grabbing her bag and placing it on the table.  
  
“You wanted to see me?” she said.  
  
Finn nervously wrung his hands. Logically, he knew there was nothing weird about meeting with Rain. She was his friend too, even if she was dating Jake. But this was one of the few hangouts that Jake wasn’t involved in. Finn hoped he was actually going to get something out of this. Otherwise he’d dragged his brother’s girlfriend out of her house in the middle of the night for nothing.  
  
“Uh, yeah,” said Finn. “I think you’re the only one who won’t think I’m totes nanners.”   
  
He grabbed his cocoa and pulled it towards him.   
  
Over the course of ten minutes, Finn explained everything. Marceline, Bonnie, the strange vibes he was getting, his theories. He even admitted that he wasn’t sure whether or not he actually was nanners. Maybe Finn was making a mountain out of, well, a speck of dirt. Maybe Jake and Bonnie were justified in treating him like a child.   
  
Rain ordered a mocha with extra cream, but she didn’t stop listening to Finn. She just sat there, hands folded in her lap as Finn told her everything. And when her drink arrived, Rain took a few light sips while Finn wrapped up his story.  
  
Finn slumped in his seat. Even if Rain didn’t believe him, at least she let him talk. Finn really needed to get all of that off his chest. His frustration towards Bonnie had sort of escalated as he thought about it. It really hurt. He’d had a crush on her for a long time and Bonnie still thought he was some silly kid with a big imagination.   
  
Rain sipped her mocha a little more. She weighed her answer carefully, taking in everything Finn had said. Putting it all out there, it sounded more than a little outlandish. But Rain wasn’t laughing or telling Finn to be more sciency about this. She was actually looking at his point of view, like he was an adult and they were having an intellectual discussion. Whether she believed him or not, Finn was visibly relieved.   
  
“Does she have a reflection?” said Rain.  
  
Finn had to think about that one. There weren’t exactly a ton of mirrors at Pizza Sassy. There was one big one in the gender-neutral bathroom, but Marcy never went in there. There used to be two working bathrooms—one for men, one for women—but the mens’ bathroom had been out of commission for a while. Max’s solution was to re-brand the other bathroom as “gender-neutral”. It was cheaper than actually fixing anything and none of the customers seemed to mind.  
  
“I’m not sure,” said Finn.  
  
He tried to remember if he’d caught Marcy’s reflection in anything—a shiny pot or something—but he had no clue. That wasn’t something he paid attention to. In hindsight, checking for a reflection should have been Finn’s first priority. Bonnie could make up excuses for Marcy’s pale skin and the fangs, but a lack of reflection was a little harder to debunk.  
  
Rain unclasped her bag and reached inside. She pulled out a little round thing and handed it to Finn.  
  
Finn took the thing from her and flipped it open. It was a mirror. One of those small compacts that people used for make-up. Small enough to fit inside a bag.  
  
“Catch her with this,” said Rain.  
  
Excitement roared in Finn’s chest. Finally. How had Finn not thought of this before? He felt like an idiot. He didn’t even need to come up with a convoluted plan.   
  
“Dude, awesome!” said Finn.  
  
He tucked the compact into his pocket. Finn was already trying to figure out how he was going to catch Marcy’s reflection—or lack of reflection—without her noticing. Even though Marcy told him she was a vampire, she couldn’t have expected him to believe her. It was her idea of a game, something to piss off Bonnie. But Finn knew it was real. And he was about to get some hard evidence.  
  
First he was going to show Marceline that he knew. He was going to present his undeniable proof to her and Bonnie. And once Marcy was caught completely off-balance, Finn was going to stab her. Stab her right through the heart with a wooden stake. Because if there was one thing Finn knew for sure, vampires were evil.   
  
“Do you have any, like, holy water?” said Finn.  
  
He was recalling all of his vampire knowledge from old movies and books.  
  
Rain shrugged.  
  
“I could make some,” she said.  
  
She was busy, but never too busy for Finn or Jake. Rain was an artist, specifically a painter with a deep love for radical and bold color schemes. But she primarily worked for a small local ride-share service. Painting was amazing, but it didn’t really bring in a reliable regular income. Rain couldn’t wait until she had enough cash saved up to quit her day job and start painting full-time.   
  
“Sweet,” said Finn.  
  
He paid for his drink and Rain paid for hers. It was after one in the morning and they both needed to head home.  
  
Finn felt a thousand times more confident as he left the coffee place. It didn’t matter if Bonnie and Jake didn’t believe him. They could sit in their boring gray little bubble of science and logic. Finn had something way better: a real live vampire.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Observing Marceline had its challenges, but Bonnie was prepared.  
  
She spent a while in the bathroom—a domain Marcy seemed unwilling to enter—adding to her notes and doing some research. For Bonnie to truly understand how Marcy operated, she needed to dig up some info. Bonnie needed to understand what made Marcy tick.  
  
But as Bonnie frantically scrolled through increasingly irrelevant pages of search results, Bonnie just couldn’t find a single thing. There was no social media trail for her to follow. Marcy didn’t have any accounts for Bonnie to stalk. And despite Bonnie plugging Marcy’s name into pretty much every database she could find and making inquiries with some of her tech buddies, Bonnie came up blank. It was like Marceline had zero online presence, which seemed ridiculous in this day and age. Even Bonnie had two social media accounts, one of which was dedicated to posting science hot takes and the other was a more private account for her to connect with her fellow programmers.  
  
Bonnie let out a frustrated groan. The sound bounced off the bathroom walls, reminding her that she was sitting on a filthy toilet in a bathroom that never seemed to be fully clean. And earlier that day, Bonnie had skipped lunch for the sake of her research. Now she was really feeling her mistakes.   
  
“What the frag, dude?” said Bonnie to herself.  
  
She tried again, hitting the Search icon for the fifth time that day. But it didn’t matter. No matter what combination of words she tried, nothing was coming up. Ten whole pages of zilch. Plus none of Bonnie’s online contacts had gotten back to her. They were usually very prompt and thorough. Was “Marceline” even her real name? Or was a fake identity part of her stupid prank?  
  
Bonnie started scrolling again, faster this time. A bunch of pages she’d seen before. Very little new stuff. Nothing that told Bonnie anything about Marceline Abadeer.   
  
She slammed her laptop shut. Ugh. How elusive could one woman be?   
  
Bonnie shoved the laptop back into her bag and left the bathroom. Whatever. She had work to do. With the fate of Pizza Sassy on her shoulders—a depressing thought—Bonnie couldn’t afford to slack off. If this place went under, she was out of a job. And it wasn’t like Bonnie could rely on Max to step up. This was entirely on her.   
  
She stopped dead in her tracks, bathroom door swinging shut behind her.   
  
Marcy was sitting on the counter. She was right next to the cash register, her legs crossed and dangling off the side. Bonnie had never really appreciated how long and thin Marcy’s legs were. If it wasn’t for the attitude, Marcy could have been a model. Marcy had the grace and beauty to dazzle a runway.  
  
Her eyes were closed, fingers plucking at the strings of a battered old bass. The bass was shaped like an ax, Bonnie noticed. Some kind of custom instrument she’d never seen before. It looked old, like it had been through two or three generations of musical talent. And Marcy was just sitting there strumming and humming, seemingly unaware of her surroundings.  
  
Bonnie stared. If she’d caught Finn or anyone else slacking off like that, she definitely would have reamed them for it. If they weren’t going to be cogs in a well-oiled machine, there was no point. And Bonnie reminded them of that every day, because she knew they needed it drilled into their heads.   
  
“Marceline,” said Bonnie.  
  
She tried to sound gentle, like a mother reprimanding her kid for goofing off. But it came off a lot more impatient than Bonnie intended.   
  
Marcy opened her eyes. She didn’t seem surprised to see Bonnie standing there.  
  
It was after closing time. Finn was sweeping the floors, Kara was scrubbing the tables, and everyone else had gone home. It was usually just the three—or four—of them after the place shut down. Bonnie didn’t mind. Less people to yell at for screwing up. Plus staying late at Pizza Sassy gave her this warm fuzzy intimate feeling. Or at least it used to. Marcy had ruined a lot of Bonnie’s work-fuzzies.   
  
“Oh hey, Bon-Bon,” said Marcy.   
  
She hopped off the counter, sweeping her hair out of her face.  
  
“Pretty sweet bass, right?” said Marcy. “Totally bayangles.”  
  
Of course Marcy was right. That bass was totally bayangles. But Bonnie didn’t care. She had stuff to do: inventory, money stuff. Bonnie was pretty sure Max was stealing supplies and crap—from his own donking restaurant—and selling them online. But she had no proof, so Bonnie just had to pretend she didn’t notice the occasional missing cooking utensil.   
  
Bonnie went into the kitchen. She wanted to curl up in bed with a good book or maybe get started on the other stuff she had to do. Unsurprisingly, working at Pizza Sassy wasn’t Bonnie’s only source of stress. She had other stuff going on. School stuff—online classes—and her other crappy job that she did when she wasn’t working at Pizza Sassy. Bonnie envied Finn, Kara, and Moe. The three of them had such comparatively easy lives. And of course Marceline just did whatever she wanted.  
  
She yanked open the door of the giant walk-in freezer. Bonnie flinched as a rush of cold air slapped her in the face. But she journeyed bravely forward, stepping into the relative darkness of the freezer. She’d been in there dozens of times and she still hadn’t gotten used to the cold. It was such a different breed of cold, way more bitter and biting than the outside.   
  
Finn followed Bonnie into the kitchen and into the walk-in freezer. Before he started working at Pizza Sassy, Finn was pretty sure only serial killers had walk-in freezers. Those things were death traps. Big scary wintery coffins.   
  
“Yo BB, you gotta check this out,” he said.   
  
He was pulling out his phone. Finn glanced over his shoulder, making sure Marcy hadn’t followed him. He could still hear the strains of her bass from where he was standing, but he could never be sure. Marcy moved fast. One minute she was chilling by the door, the next minute she was right behind him. Marcy loved grabbing Finn’s shoulders and making him let out that high-pitched scream of his. Marcy did the same thing with Bonnie, or at least she tried to. After the third time, Bonnie just started expecting it and it stopped being fun to watch.   
  
Out of everyone there, Kara was the only person Marcy never messed with. Probably because Marcy didn’t want to get decked in the face. Kara could take a joke—Finn knew this from experience—but she was also a huge wimp about being startled. The last time Finn surprised her—by accident—she almost broke his nose. A harsh but necessary lesson.  
  
Bonnie sighed. She didn’t want to treat Finn like a child but, well, he was a child. And like with any child, Bonnie had to choose when to indulge and when to ignore. This seemed like a pretty okay time to indulge, given how eager Finn sounded.   
  
“Yes, Finn?” she said.  
  
Finn checked over his shoulder one last time. Confident that Marcy wasn’t about to sneak up on him, he stepped into the walk-in freezer. He held up his phone, a huge satisfied grin on his face.   
  
“Ba-ching!” he said. “I got mad proof that Marcy’s a vamp.”  
  
Eyebrows raised, Bonnie turned to look at what Finn was showing her. She squinted at the phone screen. At first Bonnie couldn’t see anything. It looked like Finn had somehow snapped a picture of his own phone, which didn’t make any sense. But eventually Bonnie noticed the outline and the familiar bits of background. It wasn’t a photo of Finn’s phone. It was a photo of a what looked like a small compact mirror.  
  
She folded her arms and stared at Finn like he was an idiot.  
  
“Um, what the bunk is this biz?” said Bonnie.   
  
Finn pointed at the phone screen, as if looking again might disclose more information.  
  
“This biz is proof that I’m right,” said Finn. “She is a vampire. Check it: no reflection. I pointed the mirror right at her and she’s not there.”   
  
Bonnie wrestled with about a million things she wanted to say. She thought they were past this. Finn hadn’t brought it up since their last talk and Bonnie was getting comfortable looking for answers without Finn’s help. But apparently he hadn’t let it go.  
  
“Finn, that’s just your phone,” said Bonnie. “You can’t see dip.”   
  
The smile slipping off his face, Finn checked the image on his phone. Bonnie was right. With the way the shot was angled, it just looked like a mirror with a phone reflected in it. Finn had been way too quick taking that photo. In the moment, he was thinking about how he needed some kind of photographic evidence before Bonnie would buy it. He’d flubbed up again and now Bonnie was getting pissed at him.  
  
“Dude, I saw it,” he said. “I pointed this thing right at her and no reflection.”   
  
Shaking her head, Bonnie turned away from him. She had her own Marceline mysteries to work out. Finn’s conspiracy bunk wasn’t helping.  
  
“Or maybe it’s broken?” said Bonnie. “Mirrors can be fake, Finn.”   
  
Finn pulled the compact out of his pocket. He was a hundred percent sure that mirror wasn’t fake. There was no way Rain would give him something that didn’t work. Rain took this dizz seriously. This stuff was a whole part of her life.  
  
“How do you fake not having a reflection?” said Finn.   
  
Bonnie wasn’t facing him, so he couldn’t see the look on her face.   
  
“You use, like, light or something,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. Maybe you just wanted her to not have a reflection. Our brains are like that. Sometimes we see some weird biz, dude. That’s science.”   
  
Finn stared at the compact in his hand. Huh. Maybe Bonnie was right. If someone could fake not having a reflection or rig a mirror, this wasn’t really proof. And honestly, Finn went into this test with the outcome already in his head. He’d mentally prepared himself for what he was ninety-percent sure was going to happen. Even if the mirror was perfectly okay, Finn definitely could have tricked himself.   
  
He left without saying anything. Finn wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. Should he keep going with this vampire theory or was he reaching a dead end? Was this all just his brain?  
  
Bonnie stood in the freezer for a few more minutes. She watched her breath evaporate, staring off into the distance.   
  
It had to have been Finn’s imagination. Either that or it was another one of his dumb pranks. But the second one seemed unlikely. Even Finn wouldn’t have had the courage or the skill to keep it going for this long. So Finn legitimately believed Marceline was a vampire. He believed it enough to be searching for evidence.   
  
Bonnie shook her head. Of course Marcy probably tampered with the mirror or something when Finn wasn’t looking. Either that or—as she assumed before—it was all in Finn’s head.  
  
After she finished doing inventory, Bonnie was in a pretty big hurry to get home. It was nearing midnight and she just wanted her nice warm bed. Bonnie didn’t bother calling Peter Butler—her roommate—and telling him she’d be home late. He always expected her to be home at an unreasonable hour. Sometimes he even seemed to want her to be home late.   
  
Bonnie stepped out into the cold. She hugged herself, shuddering in the frosty night air. It was been unseasonably warm earlier in the day, so she felt confident leaving her jacket at home. It was still a little chilly, but Bonnie thought she could handle it. She somehow hadn’t anticipated the nighttime chill. She was going to freeze her ass off just walking home.   
  
She jumped as a pair of hands—cold hands—grabbed her shoulders.  
  
“What the fluzz?” said Bonnie.  
  
She twisted around, slapping Marcy’s hands off her shoulders. It was one of the few times Marcy actually got her. Bonnie had gotten used to Marcy’s habit of jumping out at people. Bonnie couldn’t tell if Marcy was doing it unintentionally or if it was Marcy’s silly idea of a prank.  
  
Marcy held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. She looked legitimately sorry, like she really hadn’t meant to scare Bonnie. Of course Bonnie didn’t buy it. That had to have been intentional.   
  
“Whoops,” said Marcy. “My bads, Bon-Bon. My bads.”   
  
She shoved her hands into her pockets and tilted her head up, staring up at the stars. It was a beautiful night. No clouds. A sky full of stars.  
  
“Nice night,” she said. “All cold and spooky.”  
  
Bonnie shivered. Cold? Yeah. Spooky? Not really. There wasn’t anything particularly spooky about the town of Candace. Bonnie had lived there for a while and she hadn’t seen anything even mildly interesting. Well, except for that one time she met a girl with a prosthetic arm who was “just passing through”. Other than that, nothing remarkable.   
  
Marcy was wearing that letterman jacket again. The exact same one she’d been wearing that first night. Marcy pulled it off and offered it to Bonnie.  
  
“You want me to walk you home?” she said.  
  
Bonnie pushed Marcy’s hands away, shaking her head as she rejected the offered jacket. She was cold, but not that cold.  
  
“Flip no,” Bonnie said.  
  
Marcy rolled her eyes. She offered the jacket more insistently this time.  
  
“Dude, just take it,” she said. “I don’t give a badonk about where you live, okay? Geez, Bon-Bon. You’re such a baby.”  
  
Bonnie turned and started walking off, hugging herself. She didn’t look back as she walked, even as Marcy called after her.  
  
Getting too intimate with the subject was a huge no-no for any decent scientist. If Bonnie was going to unravel the mysteries of Marceline, she had to keep her distance. She had to keep Marcy at arms length. Bonnie needed to understand exactly who and what Marcy was. And she wasn’t going to get closer by getting closer.   
  
That wasn’t how science worked most of the time. And that was the kind of science—distant, simple, straightforward—that Bonnie loved.  


* * *

  
  
Bonnie entered the dark apartment, shutting the door with her foot.  
  
She stood in front of the door for a minute, hugging herself. She really really really wished she’d taken up Marcy on that jacket offer. The temperature had started to drop out there. Bonnie could feel the frosty air in her bones. She needed something hot to sip and a nice warm blanket.  
  
It didn’t usually get this cold at night. Another mystery for Bonnie to ponder, although this one wasn’t top priority. Bonnie had enough to think about without factoring in the weather. It wasn’t like chilly nights were some kind of impossible phenomena. The abrupt temperature drop had just caught her off guard. No big deal.  
  
Bonnie walked into the kitchen. She wanted to make herself some hot cocoa or something. Anything to heat herself up. Bonnie just could not get rid of that cold. It was almost becoming a part of her. There was no heat in the apartment. They usually didn’t really need it at this time of year. Bonnie usually snuggled up in her blanket or made herself something hot. Interior heating was for the bitter unforgiving cold months.  
  
A short man with reddish-brown hair was standing in the kitchen. He was in front of the microwave. The man seemed to be heating up some leftover soup. He was watching the bowl spin around and around, his face lit up by the little patch of light emanating from the microwave.  
  
At the sound of Bonnie entering the kitchen, the man spun around. At lightning speed, he reached into his pocket and withdrew something small. It looked like a standard pocket knife, except the blade was unusually sharp and pointed. It vaguely reminded Bonnie of Marceline’s teeth.  
  
The man flipped on the light, the knife still pointed at Bonnie’s motionless figure. Realizing it was her, he let out a slow sigh. The man—Peter Butler—tucked the knife back into his pocket. He did it casually, like pointing a knife at someone was the most obvious thing in the world. He didn’t seem to regret having probably scared the absolute crap out of her.  
  
“Geez, dude,” said Bonnie.  
  
Shaking her head, Bonnie walked over to the fridge.   
  
Peter smiled sheepishly. He was the definition of a night owl. Normally active at night, Peter went to work at about three in the morning and returned before sunrise. He slept almost all day. Bonnie wasn’t even sure what he did for a living. Whatever it was, it must have paid really well. Bonnie didn’t ask because it wasn’t her business and she was pretty sure it wasn’t anything illegal.  
  
“Sorry,” said Peter.   
  
Bonnie opened the fridge and started rooting around. She was looking for something she could heat up. Bonnie wasn’t really in the mood for cooking. She was never in the mood for cooking, even though Peter insisted she at least try to eat something other than takeout.  
  
“Why the blomp do you have a knife?” said Bonnie.   
  
Peter nervously shifted from foot to foot.   
  
“You might have been an intruder,” he said.  
  
Bonnie shrugged. She was too tired and cold to argue.  
  
“Yeah, might have,” Bonnie agreed.  
  
She finally found one of the lunches Peter had made for her. He had a whole week’s worth in the fridge, just in case she wanted something quick and easy. Bonnie appreciated his efforts. If it wasn’t for him, her diet would have consisted of instant noodles and takeout. Peter had to remind her to drink water and eat dinner when she got home. Peter also did the majority of the cleaning and his mysterious job contributed to more than half of the rent. Bonnie was lucky to have him.   
  
“Are you okay?” said Peter.   
  
Bonnie was still shivering as she took the plastic container out of the fridge. She nodded as she pried open the top, her fingers clumsy and shaking.  
  
“Yeah, I’m good,” said Bonnie. “Just cold. Really cold.”   
  
Peter frowned. He turned and hit Stop on the microwave. Peter grabbed a pair of oven mitts hanging above the counter. He popped open the microwave and reached inside, grabbing the warm bowl with his oven-mitted hands.   
  
“You need soup,” he said.   
  
Bonnie was standing in front of the closed fridge with the container. She tried to shake her head, but another shudder raced through her body. She just couldn’t get warm. It was so cold in the apartment and freezing outside. Bonnie didn’t feel any better indoors than she had walking home. At least she could focus on walking. Back in her own apartment, Bonnie became even more aware of the sudden and drastic plunge in temperature.   
  
“I’m fine, P-Butt,” said Bonnie.   
  
But Peter pointed at the kitchen table, his face stern. He didn’t want to order her around—he would have never dreamed of it—but Peter was concerned. He was always at least a little concerned about Bonnie. Peter didn’t like how she holed herself up in her room for hours. He didn’t like how she lost herself in her science stuff and forgot about life outside of research. Peter knew she had school and her jobs, but it was more than that. Peter had tried—a long time ago—to set Bonnie up on a date. He’d tried to help her develop some kind of social life. But of course Bonnie just ended up treating it like an experiment.  
  
Bonnie didn’t have much choice. Peter was standing between her and the microwave. So she returned the container to the fridge and sat down. Even if Peter hadn’t been in her way, Bonnie was too tired to argue with him.  
  
Peter put the soup in front of her. He’d made it himself from scratch.   
  
“Eat,” he said. “You’ll feel better.”  
  
Peter handed her a spoon. Smiling, he turned away from her and went over to the cupboard. Peter wanted to make her some nice warm tea. He had a special brew that was perfect for Bonnie’s situation. Something to relax her. Peter was amazing with tea. He made his own at home with fresh ingredients.   
  
Bonnie scooped up a spoonful of soup. She blew on it before taking a reluctant sip. The second the liquid hit her tongue, Bonnie felt revitalized. It was like someone flipped all the right switches. The cold just melted off of her, leaving her warm and comfortable.  
  
“Oh my Glob, P-Butt,” said Bonnie. “What the heck’s in this stuff?”  
  
Peter was busy with the tea. He poured some of his special brew into a teabag and tied off the end, humming to himself.  
  
“Oh nothing,” said Peter. “Veggies, herbs, spices.”  
  
He glanced at Bonnie, the teabag suspended in one hand.  
  
“You’ve been stressed lately,” he said. “More than usual. How’s work?”  
  
Bonnie dropped the spoon into the bowl. It rattled against the side, the sound punctuating Bonnie’s drawn-out groan of frustration. Bonnie slumped a little in her chair and shook her head. This dramatic display told Peter all he wanted to know.  
  
“I’m honking tired,” she said. “It’s Marceline. She’s so...ugh. She doesn’t take her work seriously at all and she’s just the blee-blopping worst.”   
  
Peter had heard all about Marceline before. Marceline had been the subject of a very long and slightly incoherent rant. From what Peter understood, something about Marcy had rubbed Bonnie the wrong way.  
  
“I’m sure she’ll fall in line,” said Peter.   
  
That always seemed to calm Bonnie down, even if Peter didn’t believe it.   
  
Bonnie snorted. For once, she didn’t believe that. Nothing about Marcy indicated she was going to be less infuriating in a few days, a few months, or however long she lasted. Maybe Marcy would keep being, well, Marcy until Bonnie unraveled the secret of her little game.  
  
“And get this,” said Bonnie. “Finn thinks she’s a vampire. A donking vampire. What the dizz?”   
  
Peter tensed, the teabag almost slipping from his fingers. In some distant part of his brain, he remembered what he was supposed to be doing: making tea for Bonnie. He’d been about to grab a pot and fill it with water. But Peter had mostly blanked, his queue of tasks interrupted.  
  
“Oh?” said Peter. “Why does he think that?”  
  
Bonnie focused on Peter, arching her eyebrows in surprise.   
  
“I don’t know,” she said. “You know how Finn is.”  
  
His brain starting up again, Peter grabbed a pot. He turned on the sink and filled the pot up halfway. Peter had decided they both needed some nice hot tea.   
  
“Well, be careful,” said Peter.   
  
Bonnie turned back to her soup, a little bewildered. Be careful of what? Vampires weren’t real.   
  
But Bonnie didn’t need to convince herself. She already knew Marcy wasn’t a vampire, even if she didn’t have all the puzzle pieces. It was Finn who needed convincing.


	3. Demons and Stuff

Finn shook the bottle Rain had given him, watching the contents slosh around.

“Is this it?” he said.

He was trying to be grateful—Rain had taken time out of her schedule to help him—but he couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his voice. Finn felt like he’d been stiffed. A whole week of waiting and _this _was what he had to show for it? One pill bottle of holy water?

Rain shrugged. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. Making holy water wasn’t easy  and she usually didn’t have the ingredients on hand. R ain didn’t have tons of extra time on her hands. She had her steady job  _and _ art projects. Rain wasn’t exactly drowning in clients, so she couldn’t afford to be selective or lazy with her commission work. 

“I could make more,” she offered.

She couldn’t—she didn’t really have the time—but she didn’t like seeing Finn so beaten down. This vampire thing must have really been getting to him.

Finn shook his head, tucking the pill bottle into his backpack. He’d psyched himself up for this meeting. The second time him and Rain met without Jake’s knowledge. And there was that scummy feeling in Finn’s stomach again. At least they’d met during the day this time, so Finn felt slightly less skeevy about the whole thing.

“Nah, it’s good,” said Finn. “You do your stuff. I’ll figure something out. Something radical.”

So his initial plan—rigging up a giant tub of holy water and dousing Marcy when she came in for work—was going to be a little bit harder to pull off. Finn had to think of something more subtle. Unfortunately, being subtle wasn’t exactly in his wheelhouse. Direct action and direct results were more his style. But what the heck was he supposed to do with a pill bottle of holy water and a mirror?

He stood up and grabbed his backpack. Finn wanted to keep this professional, like a business transaction. Not that Finn knew anything about business, despite having worked since he was about fourteen. But it was usually manual labor jobs that paid under the table. Pizza Sassy was the first instance of Finn working in a field that didn’t require tons of heavy lifting.

“I’ve gotta work,” he said. “Catch you later.”

Finn threw some bills on the table to pay for his half of the drinks. He’d ordered two hot chocolates because he was feeling extra cold that day. He just had this weird chill under his skin all morning and into the afternoon. It wasn’t even an especially cold day. But Finn was bundled up in a thick sweater and jeans. Even the exertion of work hadn’t warmed him up.

He left quickly, pulling up the collar of his jacket. He’d wasted—or at least it felt like a waste—his entire lunch break for this. Now Finn was hungry, a little tired, and cold. He almost wanted to skip work and go straight home.

Finn trudged back to his job. He knew he was being too hard on Rain. She was trying her best and he appreciated every second she spent trying to help him. But Bonnie had really gotten into Finn’s head. He was doubting himself and that just made him feel bad. He wanted to believe he could trust his own judgment and his own eyes, but Bonnie was telling him that neither of those things were true. So did Finn trust himself or did he trust Bonnie? Why did it have to be a choice?

Finn and the crew were moving furniture into a newly-renovated house. Finn was walking slower than usual, so he was a little late coming back from lunch. By the time he showed up, everyone else was already getting started.

He spotted Kara hauling a heavy couch into the house. Finn rushed to help, even though she seemed to be doing fine on her own. It wasn’t that he thought she couldn’t handle it. Finn had worked with Kara long enough to know she was more than capable. It was Kara who got him the job at Pizza Sassy—it was her recommendation that got Finn bumped up for consideration—and they were work buddies even before that.

“Late,” said Kara.

Finn blushed. He was only about one or two minutes late, but even that was out of the ordinary. It wasn’t his fault. He’d gotten swept up in his conversation with Rain. As it turned out, Rain knew a lot about vampires. A lot more than she could have covered in a single lunch break.

“My bad,” said Finn.

Kara had once worked as a security guard at a science lab or something. She knew the importance of being prompt and responsible. Moving heavy stuff and making deliveries was a step down from security guard, but the pay was okay and Kara could handle the lifting. Like Finn, she seemed to enjoy the hard grueling labor.

They got the couch into the house and placed it against the wall. This was a big house. Bigger than anything Kara or Finn could have afforded. The living room was larger than Finn and Jake’s apartment.

Finn rubbed the back of his neck. There was a reason he’d sort of tagged along with Kara. Finn didn’t want the rest of the crew—especially Monica, his extremely well-muscled boss—overhearing this conversation. Finn knew his boss was just itching for a reason to kick him off the crew. She appreciated his work ethic, but Finn was still a kid. From Monica’s point of view, she was doing Finn a favor by letting him do the work of a full grown adult man and paying him for it. If Finn hadn’t proven himself, there was no way Monica would have even considered letting him join her crew.

“Hey, Kara,” said Finn.

Kara was already heading back outside. She’d hardly worked up a sweat. Kara kind of admired Finn. He looked so scrawny and weak, but he could lift like a pro. Plus Finn worked harder than anyone else on the crew. No wonder Monica hired him.

Impatient, Kara turned around. They had a full day of work ahead and Finn wanted to _talk? _Couldn’t this wait until they were done for the day? They could have grabbed dinner after work or something. But Kara could tell that Finn had something big on his mind, something that was eating away at him. 

“Finn?” said Kara.

Finn perched on the arm of the couch. He had to get it over with. He couldn’t spend the next hour trying to figure out what to say.

“There’s something really banyangles about Marcy,” he said.

He explained what he’d been trying to gather evidence and how it wasn’t going too well. After the mirror test, Finn had really started to feel like he was losing it. If he couldn’t trust his eyes—as Bonnie suggested—what or who could he trust? There had to be a way to find concrete physical evidence.

Kara frowned. She walked over to Finn and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a reassuring embrace.

“Bonnie is a dum-dum,” she said. 

Finn looked at her in shock. Kara had never said anything bad about, well, _anyone. _But then again, Kara didn’t really like to talk about people behind their backs. Maybe this was something Kara had felt all along, but now seemed like the best time to express it? 

“She’s, like, the smarts!” said Finn. “She’s got mad brain skills. She says big sciency words all the time.”

B onnie was the smartest person he knew. Jake was brimming with older brother wisdom and Kara knew about construction work, but Bonnie was a powerhouse of information. She knew how to fix stuff, she did science all the time,  _and _ she was amazing with computers. The trifecta of human brain power. 

Kara slid her arm off Finn’s shoulders and shrugged. She understood where Finn was coming from. After all, Kara’s girlfriend was a scientist.  She knew what it was like to feel like someone she loved had all the answers. But as difficult as it was for Kara to learn this, cute nerdy girls weren’t the apex of intelligence. There was always something in between or off to the side. That in itself was a big part of science, as Kara’s girlfriend—Frieda--explained to her. 

“Sometimes science is bad,” said Kara. “Sometimes there’s more than big words and pretty flashing lights.”

S he tapped the side of her head, as if to make a point. Kara didn’t usually think about the accident—she barely remembered it—but sometimes it just struck her. Dr. Gross—the doctor who treated her after the accident—had told her that this level of memory loss was normal. If it hadn’t been for that implant in her head, Kara probably wouldn’t have survived. Or at the very least, she wouldn’t have been able to walk and talk. She didn’t fully understand the technology that had saved her life, but she was eternally grateful.  Dr. Gross had really stepped up for her former student, footing the bill for that incredibly expensive operation and the tech involved.

Life would have been very different if Kara hadn’t crashed that boat and ended up in the hospital. For one thing, she probably wouldn’t have met Finn.

“So you think Marcy’s a vampire?” said Finn.

He was excited to have someone else in his corner. Maybe if enough people believed him, Bonnie would have to give up.

Kara furrowed her brow.

“I think there’s something about her,” she said.

She rubbed her hands together, like she was trying to get warm again.

“Cold,” she said. “Very cold.”

F inn shivered. He thought the exertion would warm him up, but he was still chilly. It was like his body was rejecting any source of heat. Everyone else seemed fine—Monica was even wearing a short-sleeved shirt and she seemed okay—but Finn wanted to put on more layers and snuggle under a blanket. He was pretty sure Bonnie was in the same boat—he’d noticed her shivering—and he’d considered asking her about it. If Kara was feeling the cold too, maybe there was something going around.

“Back to work,” said Kara.

She hurried outside. She didn’t wait for Finn to follow her. The last thing Kara needed was to get reprimanded for slacking off. They were on a time limit. Monica would be pissed if Kara and Finn held everyone up.

Finn hopped off the couch.  He trailed behind Kara, less enthusiastic about work for the first time in his life. The frosty air in his bones was making him slightly lethargic. Finn wanted to head home and get some rest. 

He told himself he was fine. If he just pushed through and did his job, he’d feel a lot better.  There was no reason to piss off Monica. There was no reason to make Jake worry about him. Everything was okay.

* * *

B onnie hunched over the register, hugging herself.

_Crap. _ She thought she’d feel better by the end of the day, but she still had that chill running up and down her bones. It was like her body was just refusing to accept heat, which made zero sense. Other than that frost living under her skin, Bonnie felt totally fine. Peter had checked her out before she left the apartment: blood pressure was normal, no muscle or joint pain, no headaches, no lethargy. In fact, Bonnie felt like she’d been injected with weapons-grade enthusiasm. She was just  _cold. _

Peter’s soup was the only thing that helped. He’d made a huge thermos of the stuff for her. Bonnie had eaten half of it during her lunch break. She was still working her way through the other half, taking long sips every few minutes as she went about her day.

Bonnie reached for her thermos—it was pink of course—but she abruptly withdrew her hand.  _Crap. Crap. CRAP. _ Of course she left it in the kitchen. 

It was after closing. Max had bolted almost immediately, shouting something about his marriage license. Bonnie had decided that her life would be a lot easier if she only listened to half of what Max said, so she wasn’t exactly sure why he’d been in a hurry. But as usual, Bonnie was left with all of the hard after-closing work. Finn and Kara were cleaning up.  Everyone else—including Moe—had already left.  And Marcy was being, well,  _Marcy. _ Bonnie didn’t even want to know where Marcy had wandered off to. 

Finn came out of the kitchen. He was undoing his ponytail and singing to himself.

Bonnie looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was being his normal self, but Bonnie had noticed him shivering. He must have been cold. Was this some weird new bug going around? Had they caught a bad  _something _ from Marceline?

_Ugh. _ Things had been so simple and okay before Marcy showed up. Everyone stayed on top of their duties, everyone was healthy, no one was talking about supernatural bullshit. What  _happened _ to that? When did Bonnie’s life turn into a big pile of  _this? _ Marceline had thrown off their entire team dynamic. If Bonnie had believed in astrology and all that stuff, she would have said that Marcy was disrupting all of their auras or something like that. 

Bonnie clutched the cash register with one hand, the other clenching and un-clenching on the flat counter top.  _Screw. This. _ The next chance she got, Bonnie was confronting Max. She was going to demand that Max fire Marcy’s cursed ass. If Marcy just left, thing s would go back to the way they were. Everything would be fine. They could pretend she never came into their lives. Deep down, wasn’t that what they all—Kara, Finn, and Bonnie—wanted? And everyone else—the entire kitchen staff—had to want that too. Bonnie couldn’t be the only one who felt all of this.

Bonnie sucked in a deep steadying breath, rolling all the frustration inside of her into a little ball. She took that ball and crammed it somewhere deep inside her chest cavity.

Finn shook out his hair. He’d cut it a dozen times in the past—mostly for charity—but he always ended up letting it grow out again. Finn couldn’t be satisfied with short hair. It just clashed with his nature. And Jake never pushed him to do anything with it, so Finn let it grow out and sometimes he brushed it. It had never been a problem for him, except when he had to tie it up like that.

“Heading out, BB,” he said.

B onnie nodded. Finn was a kid, so she tried not to keep him out too late after Pizza Sassy closed. She knew that not getting enough sleep was detrimental to a teenager’s development. 

“Be safe,” said Bonnie.

Finn blushed, even though Bonnie said that to him every time. He pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head and tucked his hands into the pockets.

Marcy emerged from the kitchen. She grinned at Bonnie, like she knew Bonnie was thinking about her. After over two weeks, Marcy must have realized that Bonnie hated her guts. Well, maybe “hate” was a strong word. Mostly, Bonnie just wished Marcy’s guts—and the rest of her—would leave forever. And Marcy must have picked up on that.

She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, pointing into the doorway she’d just exited.

“Woof,” said Marcy. “Guess she’s all tuckered out.”

She had to be talking about Kara. Everyone else had gone home. It was amazing how most of the kitchen staff cleared out so quickly after closing. Not that they had much of a kitchen staff. It was Kara, Moe, a weird little guy named Buddy Cinnerman, and a good friend of Max called Tommy. Half of them barely did their jobs.

“Aw geez,” said Finn.

He rushed back into the kitchen, almost shoving Marcy aside.  Having once been a security guard, Kara was used to working late hours. But sometimes she forgot to sleep, especially when Frieda was out of town. She’d been working really hard for that entire week—it was Friday—and her body just couldn’t take it.

Marcy put her elbows on the counter, smiling and propping up her head on her hands.

“Hello Bonnibel,” she said.

Bonnie pretended to be busy with the cash register. She’d finished a few minutes ago, but she hoped Marcy would take the hint.

“What do you want, Marceline?” she said.

She emphasized the use of Marcy’s full name. She hoped it would get her point across. It was a little trick her aunt and uncle used to pull when they wanted to express how disappointed they were. It had never really stopped working on her. Bonnie still felt her stomach drop every time an authority figure casually tossed out “Bonnibel”.

Marcy turned around and leaned on the counter, propping herself up with both hands.

“Wow,” she said. “Just _wow. _Can’t we just talk, BB? Why you gotta be so mean?”

Bonnie wasn’t in the mood for whatever weird game Marcy was playing. She’d had a long day and she was cold for no reason. Couldn’t Marcy lay off tonight? Couldn’t  _everyone? _ Bonnie just wanted the whole world to leave her alone. But instead the world was shoving Marcy at her like the universe was intentionally trying to piss her off. 

“I’m doing my _job,” _said Bonnie. “Maybe you should give it a try.”

Marcy leaned her head back, her long hair falling over her neck and the counter. Maybe Bonnie was seeing things—she was tired, so probably—but she was pretty sure no one could tilt their head that far back without breaking something.

“Ugh,” said Marcy. “You’re so _boring. _You need to, like, get drunk or something.”

B onnie slammed the register closed. The sound bounced around her ears, going off like a cannon blast in the quiet room. 

“Excuse me?” she said. “You don’t think I donking _want _to relax? Let my hair down and just go blooby-blob nutso? We can’t all be like you, _Marceline.”_

Marcy adjusted her position, turning around to look at Bonnie. She actually looked concerned, like she was invested in Bonnie’s well-being.

Throughout the many days they’d worked together, Bonnie had walked a thin line between what she wanted to say and her understanding of polite conversation. Bonnie knew that yelling at her fellow employees wasn’t conducive to a safe healthy work environment, so she just balled it up and kept it stashed inside of herself. But for the first time, Bonnie wasn’t sure she even _wanted _to yell at Marcy. That genuine concern—the concern of a friend—was making her doubt herself. It almost felt manipulative, but Bonnie searched Marcy’s face and couldn’t find a single hint of insincerity. Marcy was being for real.

“Sure you can, Bonnibel,” Marcy said. “You just won’t let yourself.”

Bonnie tried to fire back with denial, but she just couldn’t. Annoyingly, Marcy was right. It had been a long time since Bonnie let herself go. If it wasn’t school, it was science stuff. If it wasn’t science stuff, it was work. If it was none of those things, it was some other thing that popped into Bonnie’s head when she was trying to actually relax. It was just an endless cycle of _things. _And maybe Marcy didn’t grasp the full scope of it because she didn’t know everything, but she got the gist of it. Marcy understood stress.

“Shut up,” was all Bonnie could say.

But she sounded as defeated as she felt. Marcy might have been, well, every single thing that pissed Bonnie off, but there was something about her. Something that at least slightly realized what Bonnie was going through. Not enough to become a well of empathy, but enough to recognize it as a detriment to Bonnie’s mental health.

“Whatever, ya donk,” said Marcy.

She turned away, flipping her hair over her shoulder like a runway model.

“Gotta jet, boss,” she said. “Stuff to do. Vampire stuff.”

And just like that—switch flipped—that little ball of frustration in Bonnie’s chest expanded. It broke right through her cold rib cage, shattering everything inside her chest as it ballooned to five times its original size. Pure congealed stress. Bonnie could almost taste it on her tongue—gross and sticky and sharp like earwax—as she spoke, her voice rising angrily.

“You’re bananas,” she said. “How many times do I have to say this? Vampires. Aren’t. Real. What the _dip _is…”

Before Marcy could finish her thought, she heard a commotion from the kitchen. Remembering that Finn and Kara were in there, she turned towards the doorway.

Kara came barreling out of the kitchen. She was panting like she’d just run a mile, her chest heaving. Bonnie often forgot how _big _Kara was. Kara was tall and muscular, more like a tree than a human being. Her and Finn had once teamed up to move an industrial-size fridge into the kitchen. Bonnie and Max had contributed, but neither of them felt like they’d really done anything. Among the many heavy-lifting jobs Kara had worked throughout her life, she’d once been in charge of moving massive kitchen appliances and she’d done some construction work. Bonnie had no reason to doubt Kara’s track record.

“Kara?” said Bonnie.

Kara was staring straight ahead and clutching the door frame. There was something wrong with her eyes, although Bonnie assumed it was a trick of the light at first. But _nope. _It wasn’t just the light or anything equally explainable. Kara’s eyes had a strange emptiness to them, a soft green glow pulsing in her eye sockets.

Bonnie tried to rush towards her, her brow furrowed with concern. She didn’t really register Kara’s body language.

Marcy almost threw herself in Bonnie’s direction. She grabbed Bonnie’s shoulders and held her back.

“Dude, no,” she said.

Bonnie didn’t say anything. She didn’t even fight against Marcy’s grip. She just sagged into Marcy’s arms, her eyes focused on Kara. She had no idea how she was supposed to react to whatever the heck was happening. The sight of Kara—massive and totally capable of breaking her spine—had temporarily shut off the logic centers of Bonnie’s brain.

Finn rushed out of the kitchen. He ran right into Kara—she was blocking the entire doorway—and almost stumbled backwards.

“Oh dip, oh dip, oh _dip,”_he said.

Before he could move, Kara reached over and snagged him by his hoodie. Expressionless, Kara lifted Finn into the air by his hood. Finn might have been strong for a teenager, but Kara was taller and probably three times stronger than him. She was able to lift him off his feet with one hand. Kara fastened the other hand around Finn’s neck, pressing it against his throat like she was trying to squeeze the life out of him.

“No!” shouted Bonnie.

She had no idea what was going on, but she wasn’t going to let Finn die inside Pizza Sassy. If there was one good thing to say about Pizza Sassy, it was the fact that—as far as Bonnie knew—no one had ever died there. That had to count for something, right? And if there was going to be a death in this place, it definitely wasn’t going to be Finn.

Bonnie whipped her head around, searching for something she could use. A tray, a mop, _anything. _Something heavy that she could swing at Kara’s head. Bonnie probably couldn’t knock Kara out in one hit, but she could knock her off balance or distract her. Bonnie wasn’t sure where she planned to go from there, but it was the best she could come up with.

“Are you flipping kidding me?” said Marcy. “Not cool, man.”

She raised both of her arms, an exasperated look on her face.

“Okay, fine,” she said. “You wanna do this here? Whatever. Bring it on, you _butt.”_

Bonnie blinked. Okay, she was clearly going nuts and having a totally bongo-beans hallucination. Or she’d tripped and smacked her head against something and this was all a horrible nightmare. Heck, maybe she was in a coma.

Marcy’s face was changing. It was twisting and distorting like an image in a funhouse mirror. She was growing, her teeth sharpening and elongating like massive fangs. A pair of long scraggly wings burst out of her back, ripping the fabric of Marcy’s shirt as they sprouted. Her whole body was shifting and rippling, but it looked strangely natural. There was a fluidity to it, like Bonnie was watching the evolution of an animal in fast motion. But instead of watching an animal slowly take on its final form, Bonnie was watching a woman transform into a long-limbed bat creature.

A snarl rippling in its throat, the creature that had once been Marcy flung itself at Kara. Its wings seemed to flex as it propelled itself forward.

Kara turned immediately towards Marcy and dropped Finn. She swung her massive arm in an arc, trying to knock Marcy back. But Marcy dodged and tackled her, sending them both tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Kara was huge, but Marcy was enormous _and _she had fangs. Unfair advantage in any fight.

Finn hit the ground and rolled away from them, gasping and clutching his throat.

Marcy was pinning Kara to the ground, or at least trying to. Even in her bat form, she could tell Kara had an advantage. Everyone knew Kara was strong, but this wasn’t just Kara’s usual level of terrifying strength. This was something way worse, something almost _superhuman. _It was like someone took regular Kara and injected her with super serum.

Kara swung her arm upward, clocking Marcy right in the face. Marcy recoiled from the blow.

“No fair,”said Marcy.

She growled, baring her pointy teeth. Her voice sounded disturbingly normal. Marcy grabbed Kara by the shirt and straightened up, lifting Kara into the air like she weighed nothing. Laughing, Marcy turned away from the kitchen. In one smooth quick motion, she swung her arm back like she was winding up to throw a baseball and hurled Kara across the room.

“Bye, ya donk!” said Marcy.

Kara hit the opposite wall and slid to the floor.  She slumped, her head falling forward like she’d passed out. Several cute-sy paintings of pizza tumbled off their nails and fell to the floor.  Max had bought and hung those himself. Bonnie could tell because the frames immediately fell apart the second they hit  the floor.

Laughing, Marcy returned to her original form. She shrank, the pointy ears retracting back into her head, the lower half of her face smoothing out, her pointy teeth—except the canines—returning to their usual smoothness. In less than a minute, she was back to being just plain old—sort of—Marceline Abadeer. Well, except the clothes. Marcy had practically shredded her jacket and shirt, although the jeans were holding up pretty well.

“Geez,” said Marcy.

She chuckled nervously, smoothing a few stray strands of hair out of her face.

Finn jumped to his feet, dragging a hand across his bruised neck. His focus narrowing, Finn darted past Marcy. He had to make sure Kara was okay. She was a tough woman—maybe the toughest—but she’d hit that wall  _hard. _ There had to be some internal bleeding or possibly even a broken spine. No one was perfectly alright-and-dandy after hitting a wall like that.

Bonnie grabbed her chest, scrunching the fabric of her shirt.  _Oh Grod. _ This was it. She was finally having a heart attack. It had a good run. The poor thing had been chugging along like a champ for nineteen whole years. It deserved a nice long break.

“What the _bunk?” _Bonnie said.

Marcy turned around and raised an eyebrow.

“She’s fine,” said Marcy.

Bonnie balled her fists into her hair and shut her eyes.  _No no no no NO. _ This wasn’t happening.  _Oh _ _G_ _lob. _ There was no way any of this was happening. Everything was so  _normal. _ It was so  _normal. _ Less than ten minutes ago, Bonnie was all ready to go home, relax, and forget about Marceline. How was this happening? How in Glob’s name was any of this real?

“Fine?” Bonnie shouted. “None of this is donking _fine. _Kara just tried to flipping _kill _Finn and I’m pretty sure she was on drugs. Actually, I think _I’m _on drugs. Because I just saw you turn into a freaking _bat thing...”_

Marcy grabbed Bonnie’s shoulders to hold her steady.

“Whoa there,” she said. “Dude, your heart’s gonna explode. Sit down. Drink some water. Just _chill.”_

Bonnie shoved Marcy away. She couldn’t deal with this right now. In fact, she couldn’t deal with this _ever. _If Bonnie could just go home and never have to see or speak to anyone ever again, that would be great. If she could walk right out of Candace and hitchhike a hundred miles away from this place, that would be better. Forget Finn. Forget Marcy. Forget Pizza Sassy. Forget Max. Forget Peter. Bonnie didn’t even want to grab her science stuff before she left.

“Chill?” she said. “How the _bunk _am I supposed to chill? This is insane. It’s—it’s not scientifically possible! None of this is scientifically possible!”

Finn pressed two fingers against Kara’s neck. At the sound of her pulse, his own heartbeat sped up. _Thank Glob. _She was actually alive. Maybe bruised and with a ton of bad stuff going on, but at least she was breathing.

He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. Finn’s hands shook as he unlocked it, the phone almost slipping from his sweaty palms. But he held on, desperately trying to remember how to call the hospital. Finn’s brain had gone totally blank. He couldn’t even remember Jake’s phone number, let alone that incredibly simple number for emergency services. Did he even have it in his contacts?

“We gotta call someone,” said Finn.

His face was wet. Sometime between checking Kara’s pulse and grabbing his phone, Finn had started crying. He dragged his arm across his face, smearing a gross mixture of snot and tears all over his face. Finn almost choked on the violent sobs bubbling in his throat. It was times like this that Finn remembered he was a kid. He was only seventeen. He’d never known his birth parents and he’d spent very little time with his adopted ones. Jake had tried his best, but he hadn’t prepared Finn for any of this.

Bonnie spread her arms in exasperation. She was at the end of her rope and dangling over the edge of a cliff. How did she even classify this? Was it a “workplace accident”? Or was this “aggravated assault of a minor”?

“Call _who, _Finn?” said Bonnie. “The dipping cops?”

Marcy walked—well, _floated—_over to Finn. She grabbed his shoulders and hauled him to his feet. The phone slipped out of Finn’s sweaty hand, but neither of them noticed. Neither of them cared about a stupid phone.

“Chill out,” said Marcy. “I have a guy.”

Finn sniffed, retracting snot back into his nose. He’d never seen someone get hurt before. Well, he’d heard of—and witnessed—a few minor workplace injuries. Sometimes Monica and her team bit off more than they could chew. And sometimes the kitchen staff at Pizza Sassy got too cocky or careless with hot oil. But this was nothing compared to a few burns or a broken foot.

“We have to help her,” said Finn.

The words came out in a muffled croak, his throat dry.

Marcy nudged Kara’s unconscious body with her foot. She didn’t seem to share Finn’s concern. If Finn had been in a more stable state of mind, he probably would have been enraged by her callous behavior.

“She’s not hurt,” said Marcy. “And she’s not dead. I’ve seen this before. She’ll be up and okay in about ten minutes. Might want to stay off her feet for a few days.”

Bonnie sprinted across the room, her face practically twisted with rage. She stopped just short of grabbing Marcy by the collar and shaking her.

“What do you mean you’ve seen this before?” Bonnie said. “What the _flip _is going on? What did you give her?”

Marcy stepped back. Immortal being or not, she did _not _like this aggression. Maybe she was misreading the situation, but Marcy was getting the sense that Bonnie was not exactly thrilled with her heroics. _Seriously? _Marcy stuck her neck out to save all of their lives and _this _was her thanks? _Wow._

“Didn’t give her anything, Bonnibel,” said Marcy. “Did you not see those eyes?”

Marcy grabbed Kara’s hair, forcing her head up. Kara was still unconscious and breathing in slow, shallow breaths. There was no blood and nothing to suggest any kind of head injury. Maybe Marcy was right.

“Girl was possessed,” said Marcy. “Case closed.”

She let go of Kara’s head.

Bonnie rubbed her face. _Funny. _She’d had a nightmare just like this a few months ago, except instead of Marcy it was a giant slice of pizza. And instead of whatever the heck just happened, the floor had turned into a lake of bubbling cheese and Max was standing to the side dressed like an old-school depiction of Death. That dream kind of got away from her near the end.

“Possessed?” she said. “Like what? A demon?”

Marcy rolled her eyes.

“Um, _duh,”_she said. “Are you even paying attention? This is first day stuff, Bonnibel. I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

Bonnie opened her mouth, but Marcy waved a hand to stop her.

“No such things as demons, drugs, this is a dream, _blah blah blah_,” said Marcy. “Whatever. Let’s just go see my guy, okay? He’ll know what to do.”

Marcy hoisted one of Kara’s massive arms over her shoulder. Struggling, she managed to drag the unconscious Kara to her feet. Marcy was momentarily thrown off by how much Kara weighed, but she quickly got used to the bulk. It wasn’t a difficult adjustment. And the weight was mostly muscle.

Finn rushed to help, securing Kara’s other arm over his shoulder. It was an awkward position, but it worked. With their combined effort, they were able to start dragging Kara’s body towards the front door.

“Where the stuff are you guys going?” said Bonnie.

She directed the question at Finn, because she knew Marcy wasn’t going to give her a good answer.

Finn just grunted and looked away. He didn’t have a good grasp on what was going on, but that didn’t matter. The only thing Finn needed to know was that his friend was in trouble. His friend was in trouble and someone knew how to fix her. If the roles had shifted and it had been Jake and Finn, Jake would have been hauling ass out of there the second Marcy said she could help. Maybe it was cheesy of him, but Finn considered Kara to be a part of his family. Kara didn’t have any family of her own, other than maybe the dozens of people from the commune. But Kara had left those people behind—or at least she’d left most of them—and she’d stayed with Finn.

“To get my guy,” said Marcy. “Keep up, Bonnie.”

Bonnie took a single step backward, like she was going to make a beeline for the counter. But she realized that she had zero options. The cops weren’t going to believe a word of this. Bonnie was still trying to piece it together in her head and she wasn’t convinced that she wasn’t on drugs or something. Maybe Marcy slipped something into her thermos as a prank. Maybe Marcy had given the same thing to Kara and Finn was playing along because he was just a kid.

If this really was a drug trip or something, Bonnie couldn’t stay at Pizza Sassy and wait for it to blow over. She needed to stick with Finn. If this was Marcy’s idea of an elaborate prank, there was no way to know what messed up crap she might do to Finn or Kara.

Bonnie followed them out of Pizza Sassy. The night was a lot less cold, but just about as dark and spooky.


	4. Curses and Stuff

Whoever Marcy’s friend was, they lived a little ways out of Candace.  
  
Bonnie hardly noticed the length of the walk. She was too busy staring at the back of Marcy’s head. Even though the chill had left, Bonnie was hugging herself. She felt like she might drift off if she let go of herself for too long. But Marcy and Finn were happily chatting like this was some kind of fun nighttime outing. Bonnie really didn’t get those two.  
  
“Dude, that was banyangles,” said Finn. “Why aren’t you a bat, like, all the time?”  
  
Marcy laughed.   
  
“Shut up, man,” she said. “You would have pissed your little boy pants if I showed up for my first day all batty. Just like you messed your shorts when you saw these sexy fangs of mine.”  
  
Finn slightly shifted Kara’s arm on his shoulder. He was getting tired, but he hadn’t slowed down. This was just like lugging around heavy furniture. It got exhausting after a while, but Finn kept pushing himself. Aching muscles seemed like a fair price to pay for giving one hundred-and-ten percent.  
  
“Nice try,” said Finn. “I haven’t messed my shorts since I was a bibby-babs. I bet you pissed your pants.”   
  
Marcy shrugged.  
  
“Well, I’m kind of undead, so…,” she said.  
  
Finn furrowed his brow. Surprisingly, that was the part that kept slipping his mind. After all, how often did you meet an undead lady? Especially a super cool undead lady who saved your life.   
  
“Oh yeah,” he said. “What’s with that biz?”  
  
Marcy thought for a minute. She could hear Kara’s feet dragging behind them. She would have asked Bonnie to help, but she had a feeling this wasn’t the best time to engage. Marcy understood. This was a lot to take in, even though it shouldn’t have been. Marcy was a vampire and Kara had been possessed. What was so hard about that? Why couldn’t Bonnie just deal with it?   
  
“I’m actually a half-demon who got bitten by a vampire,” said Marcy. “Totes different.”   
  
Finn nodded, even though he had zero clue what she was talking about. He filed that away for later. Finn already had a billion questions to ask Marcy and another thousand for this friend of hers. Plus he had to smooth some stuff over with Bonnie and untangle the mess in his head. It was going to be a very long, very weird night.  
  
“So you think Kara will be okay?” said Finn.  
  
He was sure he’d asked that ten or twelve times, but he didn’t give a crap if he was grating on Marcy’s nerves. Finn knew it wasn’t on him to fix this, but he partially blamed himself for Kara getting hurt. He should have realized something was off. He should have run right out of that kitchen and asked for Bonnie’s help when he noticed something was weird about Kara. So why did Finn stick around and let Kara grab him? What was even running through his head? He hardly remembered. It was all just a blur. One second he was standing in front of Kara, the next second his feet weren’t on the floor. It was nuts.   
  
“Probs,” said Marcy. “My friend is a total egghead. If he doesn’t know what to do, we’re seriously shamanyles.”   
  
Finn glanced at Kara.  
  
Kara seemed to be waking up a little, but she was still out of it. She was blinking a lot and staring straight ahead, her mouth slightly open and her hair falling over her face. Too dazed to walk or move her arms. What the heck did that demon-thing do to her?   
  
“Seriously shamanyles,” Finn echoed.  
  
Eventually, they reached the house. It was huge. A literal mansion flanked by intimidating towers and massive triangle-shaped windows. It almost looked like someone had taken a Victorian-era castle and plopped it down outside Candace. There were a few modern touches—a very attractive paint job, plus a bunch of fake flowers and penguin-shaped lawn ornaments out front—but otherwise it was like something from an old horror movie. In the light of the moon, it looked serene and dead.  
  
“Mathematical,” Finn said.   
  
They trooped up to the front door. It didn’t look like anyone was home. There were no lights on, no car parked at the end of the long driveway. If it hadn’t been for the well-groomed lawn, Finn would have assumed the place was abandoned.   
  
Marcy slid Kara’s arm off her shoulder and floated up to the door. Seeing her like that—her hair streaming behind her, her feet several inches off the ground—made Finn shudder. In the almost pitch black night, Marcy looked like a specter or a vision from one of Finn’s nightmares. And Finn didn’t like how her eyes flashed red when she reached to knock on the door.  
  
“Yo, you butt!” Marcy said. “It’s Marceline!”  
  
The door opened a crack, like the person behind it had been waiting for them. Now that Finn thought about it, he’d seen something—a tiny flash of movement—in the window nearest to the door. Someone had been watching them through the curtain. That made sense. What kind of weirdo lived in a house like this?   
  
A man with messy long white hair and a white beard peeked out from the opening. Maybe it was the lighting, but his skin seemed to have a vague blue tinge to it.   
  
“Marceline?” he said.   
  
Marcy jerked her thumb over her shoulder, indicating the people standing behind her.   
  
“Is it okay if we come in?” she said. “Tonight’s been totally bonzo.”   
  
The man opened the door wider. He was wearing blue pajamas and his feet were bare. He’d probably been asleep or something before Marcy and the others arrived. Finn and Bonnie couldn’t quite peg his age. They’d both assumed he was elderly due to the beard and the hair, but his face wasn’t wrinkled or otherwise marked by age. And now that he was standing fully in the doorway, that slight blue tinge became even more obvious.  
  
Marcy shoved the door open and marched—well, floated—inside. She was acting like she ran the place, which was probably a hundred miles from the truth. There was no way Marcy would live in a creepy old mansion. Didn’t really fit her punk rock vibe. Creepy old Victorian-style mansions were more hard goth than punk.   
  
“Thanks,” she said. “I owe you.”  
  
The man didn’t answer. He was staring at Kara, his brow furrowed. Even on the most normal night ever, it would have looked bizarre: a teenage boy supporting the somewhat limp body of a burly grown woman. It wasn’t even creepy. It was just all kinds of weird.   
  
“Bring her into the library,” he said.  
  
They did as they were instructed, Marcy taking up her share of the work. Bonnie trailed behind, her arms folded. Bonnie said nothing as they navigated a confusing series of hallways until they found the library.  
  
The library was probably the biggest room in the house. Floor to ceiling bookshelves, massive cathedral-style windows, comfy armchairs stuffed into every corner, a beautiful plush carpet that made weird noises under their feet. There was even some gym equipment, two computers, and a desk. Bonnie had never been more envious in her life. She would have killed for something like this in her apartment.  
  
Finn and Marcy settled Kara into the nearest comfy armchair. Kara fell heavily into the chair, groaning as her head lolled forward. She looked both dead and not dead, her body unusually limp but her heart still beating in her chest. Apparently being possessed just sapped ninety-percent of your energy. Kara had plenty of time to recharge, but she was still running on less than five percent battery.   
  
Marcy gestured towards the man.  
  
“This is Simon,” she said. “He’s my, uh, friend. We’ve known each other for a while.”  
  
She looked away. There was obviously a story there—a long interesting story—but Marcy didn’t want to tell it. They had better stuff to focus on.  
  
Simon hurried over to one of the shelves. There was no catalog or directory, but that was fine. Simon had memorized the title and place of every single book in the library. This was all his personal collection. The result of a lifetime spent scouring the globe for everything and anything related to obscure topics. Most of those books were one of a kind. Ancient tomes seen by only a few select people throughout human history. Simon wasn’t one of the chosen, but he was one hell of a collector.   
  
He grabbed a thick book off the shelf. This one had a bunch of loose papers stuffed into it. Diagrams and photographs. There were a few actual pages missing, but Simon smiled as he flipped the book open.   
  
Marcy perched on the back of Kara’s armchair.  
  
“Simon’s been doing this stuff for years,” she said. “The stuff he’s found is, like, all the way nutso. Way more nutso than me.”  
  
Simon spoke without looking up from his book. He didn’t seem to notice the loose papers falling from the pages as he flipped through.  
  
“That’s a matter of opinion,” he said. “As a singular specimen, I can say that you are, in my scientific opinion, completely bonzo. Your physical make-up is unlike at least ninety-percent of the weird peeps I’ve ever studied.”  
  
He finally found the page he needed. Simon turned the open book towards Finn and the others, pointing at the page. It seemed to be a detailed diagram of a creature. A rotting skeletal monster wearing tattered clothes, its eyes glowing with the exact same kind of weird light they’d all seen in Kara’s eyes. The creature was massive—at least according to the height given in centimeters on the right side of the diagram—and its face was nightmarish. The longer Finn looked, the more he started to get a headache.  
  
“What the junk is _that_?” said Bonnie.   
  
The first words she’d spoken since they left Pizza Sassy. The craziness of the night was finally catching up with her. It occurred to her that they’d gone from the pizza place to a weird mansion outside Candace. And now they were all gathered around an old-yet-maybe-not-old man as he showed them a drawing of some weird creature that defied all scientific logic. If this night got any more insane, Bonnie might completely lose it.  
  
“A demon,” said Simon.  
  
He handed Finn the book. Simon turned back to the shelves, running his fingers over the books as he searched for something else.  
  
“He has many names,” Simon continued. “I believe he was first referred to as “The Green Death”. He’s disappeared and reappeared a dozen times throughout the course of history. I’ve seen his face in ancient murals and cave drawings. He’s even been mentioned in certain ancient texts. Based on my own research, I believe his existence predates humanity and maybe all we’ve come to know as the universe.”  
  
Bonnie snorted.  
  
“That’s bonzo,” she said. “If this thing has existed for that long, how have I never heard of it?”  
  
Simon pulled another book from the shelf. He flipped it open to the middle and plucked a loose piece of yellowed paper out of it.  
  
“I’ve been tracking this demon for a very long time,” he said. “I’m not sure what it calls itself. But most people I’ve met refer to it as “The Lich”.  
  
Bonnie folded her arms.  
  
“You didn’t answer my question, dingus,” she said. “How come I’m just finding this out now? If it’s real, how come I've never heard about it?”  
  
Marcy rolled her eyes. She reclined in midair, her long hair almost touching the floor. Bonnie was never going to get used to, well, any of this. But Bonnie kept being caught off balance by the sheer impossibility of everything Marcy did.  
  
“You’re not the center of the world, Bonnibel,” said Marcy. “Simon’s been a myth-head for a long flipping time. You’re all science and test tubes. Simon’s world is way more interesting.”   
  
Bonnie clenched her fists. Okay, maybe this was a normal night. A normal night of her getting pissed at Marcy.   
  
“Of course I’m all science and test tubes,” said Bonnie. “That stuff is real. You can’t prove any of this stuff you’re saying is true. For all I know, you’re all totally nanners.”   
  
Marcy threw back her head and laughed, showing off those impossible fangs.  
  
“Nanners?” she said. “Nanners? Nanners like Kara attacking Finn? Nanners like me going all bat to save your sorry butts? That kind of nanners, BB?”  
  
Bonnie crossed her arms. She had zero clue what the actual hell was going on that night, but she was standing her ground. She felt like everyone around her had gone nuts. But there had to be at least one sane person in the room, right? One person who understood that all of this was utterly insane? Finn was a child, Marcy was Marcy, and Bonnie had no idea what Simon’s deal was. Not the best team of experts.  
  
“Literally all of that can be explained by drugs,” Bonnie said. “Kara going bonzo? Drugs. You throwing her across the room like that? Drugs. The bat thing? Drugs. You’re all coco-beans.”  
  
She focused on Simon, making some pretty harsh eye contact and doing her “disapproving mom” stare. Simon was probably the oldest guy there. He had to be pushing late forties or fifties. And he was a scientist. Normal people didn’t invest in huge libraries that they actually used. So why was Bonnie stuck being the adult when Simon should have been more qualified?  
  
“Dude, you’re a scientist,” she said. “There’s no way you actually believe this bunk.”  
  
Simon gave her a sad look, like he pitied her peanut-sized understanding of the situation. He snapped the book closed.  
  
“I used to be just like you,” he said. “I too thought it was bunk. But...”   
  
He swallowed and looked away, his fingers trembling. His bluish complexion was even more obvious. Simon almost looked like a frozen corpse, except he was obviously alive. But Bonnie had brushed against him when they first entered the room and she could have sworn he felt unnaturally cold.   
  
Marcy floated over to Simon and patted his shoulder, her brow furrowed with worry.  
  
“You don’t have to talk about it,” she said.   
  
Simon patted Marcy’s hand and smiled reassuringly. Those two had obviously known each other for a long time.  
  
“It’s fine, Marceline,” he said. “Its been a while since I’ve had to tell this story.”   
  
Simon walked over to one of the arm chairs and collapsed into it. He dangled his arms over the sides of the chair, staring up at the ceiling. He hadn’t brushed his hair or beard in a long time. There was a crack running down the left lens of his glasses, but Simon didn’t seem bothered by it.   
  
“I was young then,” said Simon. “I was naive. I didn’t believe in the supernatural. But then I found it.”  
  
He clearly didn’t want to tell this story again, despite what he’d just said to Marcy. But for Bonnie’s sake, Simon needed to pull her into his world. He couldn’t help them if they weren’t all totally on board. Of course a scientist like Bonnie was still clinging to her last strand of logic. Simon saw a reflection of his younger self in her eyes. He also saw someone else, but he tried not to think about it.  
  
“The crown,” said Simon. “I don’t know where it came from. All I know is that it was forged by forces not of this world. It has the power to twist a mind, to grant horrible and wonderful power.”  
  
He gestured towards himself.   
  
“This is what it did to me,” said Simon. “I haven’t left the house in years. I have the crown locked up in a display case in my lab. I spend my spare time studying it.”  
  
He looked down at his lap, clenching and un-clenching his hand. Simon had adapted to the cold because he had to live with it. But to everyone else, he was an abomination, an impossible creature. If Simon ever stepped foot outside of his house, he was one hundred percent sure he’d be dragged off to some lab somewhere for study. But Simon didn’t want that. He needed to take care of this himself. This was his curse, not a potential weapon to be exploited.  
  
“I’ve lost so much,” said Simon. “My dignity. My freedom. Betty. All I have is this huge house and the savings I’m burning through.”   
  
He clutched the arms of his chair.  
  
“That’s why I study the impossible,” said Simon. “Demons. Vampires. There has to be a cure somewhere. There must be someone or something out there that can end my suffering.”  
  
Simon sounded close to tears. He was never ready to tell this story. To his neighbors, he was just this weird guy who lived in a big house. Well, former neighbors. They’d moved away a long time ago, leaving Simon even more alone. He didn’t really mind them leaving. Less people to ask questions if he decided to take a walk around his yard.  
  
“It’s late,” said Simon. “You shouldn’t be walking home at night.”  
  
Bonnie reached into her pocket and yanked out her phone. It was late. After midnight. And they were kind of far away from home. Bonnie hadn’t thought about it during the walk, but there was no way they were walking that far in the dark. Even if Candace was safe, Bonnie didn’t feel comfortable with that distance.  
  
Marcy hovered in midair, cradling her arms behind her back and grinning. 

“Oh snap,” she said. “Guess it’s sleepover time.”  
  
Bonnie ground her teeth. She had two options and the second option wasn’t even really an option. She either stayed with Marcy and her weird friend or she hoofed it back to her apartment. Yeah, back to her apartment. In the middle of the night. So really, she only had one choice and it was the worst.  
  
“That okay with you, Finn?” said Marcy.  
  
Finn didn’t answer. He was kneeling beside Kara, both hands propped up on the arm of her chair. He was watching as she barely moved, almost choking on her own breath every time she made a sound. Well, that was settled. Finn didn’t look like he was moving any time soon. He probably had heard zero of that conversation between Bonnie and Simon. The rest of the world just didn’t matter anymore.  
  
“Spare bedrooms on the second floor,” said Simon.   
  
Bonnie nodded mutely. She was going to text Peter and tell him where she was. But how the heck did she explain herself? Peter wasn’t a scientist, but he always struck Bonnie as totally rational. If she dumped all this demon and vampire bullshit on him, he’d probably think she’d gone completely nutso.  
  
But if she didn’t call, Peter would freak out and come looking for her. So Option 2 was off the table again. Was there even an Option 3 or was she getting her hopes up?  
  
Bonnie decided to just go for it. Her quick text would probably ring a dozen alarm bells, but there was nothing she could do about it. It was either a transparent lie or the unbelievable truth. If only Bonnie was the kind of person who whipped out her phone to record everything. She could have gotten video evidence. Not necessarily for Peter, but for herself.  
  
Staying at a friend’s house tonight, Bonnie texted. Will be home late tomorrow morning.   
  
Followed by a string of hopefully comforting emoji.   
  
Simon had jumped out of his chair. He was standing in front of Kara’s sleeping body, his arms folded. He was just standing there, his brow furrowed. It was like Simon was afraid to get too close, afraid to actually touch Kara. It wasn’t that kind of reasonable fear people have around unstable drug users. This was something more guarded, like Simon had his own specific and not completely rational reasons for keeping his distance. Bonnie didn’t care how Simon rationalized it. She just hoped he was more sane than he looked.  
  
“Can I see your lab?” said Bonnie.   
  
She asked out of both genuine curiosity and the aggressive twisting in her stomach. Bonnie wanted to get away from Kara and all the things she didn’t understand. But what did she understand? Science. Bonnie understood beakers and test tubes and electricity. She understood metal and gears and springs. Bonnie understood calculations.   
  
Simon turned to her and smiled. A warm grandfatherly smile. Bonnie was pretty decent at evaluating people. She spent a lot of time observing human behavior in the hopes of better understanding relationships. She even sometimes slipped into the security room at her apartment building—Bonnie wasn’t allowed in there anymore—just so she could watch people through the interior and exterior cameras. It was fascinating, like watching animals in an enclosure. No one even noticed the lobby, hallway, and parking lot cameras, so no one was censoring their behavior for an audience. It was a hundred times better than a few test subjects in a controlled environment.   
  
“Of course,” said Simon.  
  
Bonnie, Finn, and Marcy followed Simon through the house. The amount of unused space was kind of concerning. The house was massive, but at least sixty-percent of it was unoccupied. They had to pass through a bunch of empty rooms on their way to Simon’s basement lab.  
  
Bonnie rubbed her own shoulders. She really hoped Simon didn’t get the wrong idea. Whenever Bonnie imagined asking someone “Can I see your lab?” it was usually in scenarios involving flirting. And why wouldn’t it be? That was probably the sexiest sentence Bonnie had ever said out loud. Bonnie wished she’d had more opportunities to study romantic relationships up close. She wanted to compare-and-contrast her fantasies and fiction with real life. For science.  
  
Marcy nudged Bonnie’s shoulder.  
  
“Yo, BB,” she said. “You good? You okay? You chill? Talk to me.”  
  
Bonnie rolled her eyes and moved away. She wanted to tell Marcy to go fart in a fortune cookie, but she really couldn’t. There was no one else to talk to. Kara was sleeping in the library, Bonnie barely knew Simon, and Finn was still in a very fragile state of shock. Bonnie didn’t want to know what would happen if she pushed Finn. But Marcy was keeping her cool. Marcy could actually listen without falling apart.  
  
“So you’re really a vampire, huh?” said Bonnie.  
  
They were descending the stairs into the lab. Bonnie tried not to notice that Marcy was floating again, but she couldn’t ignore it. Marcy had been doing it almost constantly since they left Pizza Sassy, like she was throwing her impossible existence in Bonnie’s science-y face. And Marcy wasn’t just floating a few inches off the ground. She was doing midair flips, spinning around, really milking it.   
  
“Yeah,” said Marcy.   
  
She raised an eyebrow and nudged Bonnie’s shoulder again.  
  
“Dude, did you really not believe me?” she said. “Flip, man.”  
  
Bonnie threw up her arms, pissed for the seventh or eighth time that night. Was she ever going to stop bouncing between furious and confused?  
  
“Of course I didn’t believe you, ya dip!” said Bonnie. “Vampires aren’t even real!”   
  
They got to the bottom of the stairs. Bonnie and Marcy were the last ones into the lab. Finn was ahead of them and Simon led the way.  
  
Bonnie wrapped her arms around herself. Why the heck was it so cold down there? It was freezing, like they’d just walked into an unheated house in the middle of winter.   
  
Simon turned to look at the three of them and gave them an apologetic smile.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s the crown.”  
  
He pointed at the display case at the far end of the room.   
  
Bonnie squinted, disbelieving. Was he serious? When Simon said “crown”, she was imagining something from a history book. Bonnie knew what crowns looked like. But the thing in the display case looked like nothing she’d ever seen before. Maybe it was supposed to look mystical and mysterious, but instead it just looked like a piece of junk. It was like something Bonnie would have grabbed from a party supply store. Dramatic pointed arcs, bold colors, and definitely only a few years old. The only interesting aspect of it was the big red gem in the middle. Bonnie was pretty sure she was looking at a prop from a movie set.  
  
She crossed the room, disappointment settling into her stomach. Bonnie actually thought Simon had something for her. Something cool and unexplainable. Of course that was just this insane night getting to her. This was all starting to make a twisted kind of sense: drugs, props, Marcy’s confidence, the eccentric old man. It was just a tangled web of delusions. Simon probably had some kind of mental issue and Marcy was playing along because she thought it was funny. Maybe the isolation had turned Simon paranoid and completely warped his view of reality. From a psychological standpoint, it made perfect sense. Simon feared getting old, so he made up some story about a cursed crown to explain away his own aging. And all that crap about demons? It was just an excuse for him to stay isolated from everyone else, something to rationalize his paranoia.  
  
Bonnie touched the display case. She expected—and wanted—some kind of reaction from the thing inside. An electric shock, a subtle pulse of energy. But of course nothing happened. The crown didn’t do anything, even as Bonnie’s breath fogged up in front of her. If the crown really was cursed, it was the most boring and fake-looking cursed object Bonnie had ever seen.   
  
“Where did you find it?” said Bonnie.   
  
Simon answered right away, which she wasn’t expecting.   
  
“In some distant village deep in the mountains,” said Simon. “No one would tell me where it came from, only that there was something unnatural about it. I’ve managed to track down some records pertaining to the crown’s journey, but the origin remains a mystery.”   
  
He refused to look at the crown. He kept his eyes fixed on a point above the display case.   
  
“When I put it on, I see things,” he said. “People and places. I know names. I can feel the snow. I keep hearing one particular name over and over again: Gunther. I believe he was the original owner of the crown or at least the first person to harness its power. But I haven’t been able to track him down. None of my records mention him.”   
  
He smiled sadly, staring down at his hands.  
  
“Isn’t it funny?” said Simon. “I’ve aged rapidly, yet I’ve lived longer than most people. The crown changes the body and corrupts the mind, but it also preserves the body and opens the mind. It’s dangerous.”   
  
Marcy laughed and folded her arms. She flipped over, floating upside down in midair.   
  
“Don’t believe a word of this, BB?” she said. “Wow. Shocking. Wouldn’t have guessed.”   
  
Bonnie shrank back a little. She didn’t like how everyone was looking at her like she was the delusional one. Bonnie felt like they were ganging up on her just because she refused to swallow this bullshit. She was pretty sure Kara would have been on Finn’s side, because of course she was always on Finn’s side. Bonnie was outnumbered.   
  
“But this is totally bongo-beans!” said Bonnie. “Of course I don’t believe any of it.”   
  
Finn put a hand on Bonnie’s shoulder.  
  
“Yeah,” he said. “It is totally bongo-beans. But can’t you drop science for one second and roll with the beans?”   
  
Bonnie brushed Finn’s hand away. No, she couldn’t roll with the beans. The beans were full of insanity. Bonnie couldn’t just throw away her years of science and reason. She was valedictorian, for Grod’s sake! Leader of the science and math club. Bonnie was voted “Most Likely to Solve Every Problem in the World with Test Tubes” in high school. She built a mechanical sandwich-making machine when she was fourteen.   
  
“Finn, you can’t just blee-bloo-blop your nerd brain away,” said Bonnie. “That’s not how science works.”  
  
Marcy wrapped her arm around Bonnie’s shoulders. Bonnie was so upset that she didn’t shrug it off. Well, she was upset and she did kind of like having Marcy’s arm there. It was like Marcy was physically anchoring Bonnie to the ground, making sure she didn’t float off with her mind. It was nice to know that she was firmly in place.  
  
“You want science, Bonnibel baby?” said Marcy. “Check it.”   
  
She grabbed a notebook from a nearby bench and flipped it open. She pointed at the drawing on the page: a very rough deconstructed sketch of the Lich. There were notes in the margins, key points were labeled. The messy handwriting reminded Bonnie of her own. Even the drawing style reminded her of her own detailed anatomical sketches.   
  
Bonnie took the notebook from Marcy. She started flipping through it, scanning notes and sketches. Trial and error, detailed observations, concise labeling. This was research. This was science. An insane science focused on an insane premise, but it was still science. It shouldn’t have made sense, yet Simon had forced it to make sense. There was probably even more on his computer.   
  
“No working vocal cords,” Bonnie muttered. “The smell of rotting flesh and sulfur. Decay of the victim’s body upon prolonged possession. Garments don’t match those of any known religion or culture.”   
  
Unintentionally, Bonnie had started pacing with the notebook. She was reading out loud, like she was studying a scientific journal or proofreading an essay. Except there was no science. It was just ridiculous supernatural bullshit. But Simon’s notes gave a lot more context. They made the impossible seem reasonable. If someone had submitted this as a legitimate scientific text, Bonnie probably would have given it a pass.   
  
She stopped pacing and looked at Simon.  
  
“What other cases?” she said. “Who else has been possessed?”  
  
Simon nervously shuffled his feet.  
  
“I don’t know the numbers,” he said. “I uncovered dozens of cases, but I can’t be sure they’re all him.”   
  
Bonnie shut the notebook, nodding.   
  
“Okay,” she said. “So you have no idea how people this Lich boy has jacked. But do you know what it wants? It has to want something.”  
  
Not that Bonnie believed any of this. She wasn’t an idiot. But she was in hostile territory. Everyone wanted Bonnie to believe in this paranormal nonsense, so why not pretend? Maybe if Bonnie fed Simon’s delusions a little, she might be able to unravel the truth. There had to be a very simple scientific explanation for what was going on. Even if it turned out to be a prank, Bonnie wouldn’t be pissed. She just wanted everything to make sense.   
  
Simon looked Bonnie dead in the eye. He didn’t look scared. But Bonnie heard the fear in his voice. He’d probably never had to say this out loud before. The first time was always going to be the hardest. It was one thing to know. It was another thing to actually say those words.  
  
“He wants to end the world,” said Simon.  
  
A shudder raced up Bonnie’s spine. Maybe she didn’t totally believe in all of this, but she was still spooked.


	5. Books and Stuff

Bonnie was a scientist. She believed in things she could see, things she could feel, things that made sense.

The supernatural was none of those things.

Ghosts? Fake. Hallucinations. Sleep paralysis.

Objects moving on their own? Pranksters. Fishing line.

Demonic possession? Mental illness. Drugs. Psychosis. Attention-seeking.

Vampires? Fake teeth. Wires. And probably drugs. Lots and lots of drugs.

But what kind of scientist ignores overwhelming evidence? What kind of scientist refuses to step outside of their comfort zone? What kind of scientist denies their own eyes, eyewitness accounts, and confirmation from a fellow nerd?

If vampires and demons were real, what was even the point? Why science at all? It was all pointless. There were things beyond science, beyond rational explanation. Things that couldn't be studied. But that was bonkers.

Bonnie woke up the next morning with a single goal in mind: she wanted to ask Simon some more questions. Before she left, she needed to know everything. It was Bonnie’s duty as a scientist. If she didn’t probe for the truth, no one else was going to. Finn was a child who blindly accepted everything he was told and Kara wasn’t the most discerning when it came to obvious bullshit. 

She hugged herself as she walked downstairs. It was still too chilly in that house. Didn’t Simon have a furnace? Or at least some of those crappy space heaters? Bonnie was worried she might actually get sick from the chill. 

"Morning, Bonnibel!"

Marcy swept past Bonnie, her long hair swiping against Bonnie's face like a curtain.

Bonnie gagged, scraping and spitting a few nonexistent strands of hair off her tongue._ Seriously?_ She literally _just woke up_. Wasn't it a little early in the morning for Marcy to be a total trash can? Bonnie usually tethered her assholery until after she maxed out her daily protein and carb intake. Couldn't piss of her friends on an empty stomach.

"Morning, Marceline," said Bonnie.

Marcy floated backwards, hitting Bonnie with a pair of finger guns and winking. It was probably the dorkiest thing Bonnie had ever seen in her life. But Marcy took the dork right out of it. Her confidence was enviable.

Despite feeling like utter hell, Bonnie smiled. She kept getting pissed at Marcy, but it just wouldn't stick. It was like Marcy kept jabbing the reset button. And that pissed her off even more, but then Marcy started dorking it up again and Bonnie forgot why she was mad. It was so damn frustrating.

Simon was making breakfast. Well, what he probably thought was breakfast. It was pretty obvious that he hadn't had guests in a while. Simon was wearing an apron with the words _Hot Buns_ printed across the front in curly letters, accompanied by a graphic of two hamburger buns. Apparently omelets were on the menu that morning.

He flipped a fresh omelet onto a plate and handed it to Bonnie. He was grinning like he was proud of himself.

Bonnie wrinkled her nose. The omelet smelled very, well, _interesting_. Simon had gone completely overboard with the spices and herbs. Bonnie was all for food experimentation, but she was pretty sure that if she ate that, she would drop dead on the spot.

"So, Simon," said Bonnie. "About this....demon."

She forced a smile. Bonnie didn't know how far she was willing to play along. But sure. For the sake of communication, she'd call it a "demon".

Simon flipped another omelet onto a plate and put it on the table.

"Oh, that reminds me," he said. "I made some breakthroughs last night. A scientist never sleeps."

Marcy yanked open the fridge and pulled out a container of strawberries. She cracked open the plastic container, nostrils flaring as she inhaled the sweet strawberry scent. These were the real deal. Fresh from Simon's private garden. One of Simon's many indoor food experiments. Genetically engineered for maximum freshness, maximum sweetness, and the deepest most delicious red in the entire universe.

She grabbed a strawberry, stabbing right through the surface with her fangs. Marcy sucked up all that lovely deep red like it was food dye. When she was done, Marcy chucked the strawberry at Bonnie.

"All yours, Bonnibel," she said.

Bonnie clenched her fists on the tabletop, her eyes locked on the strawberry as it rolled across the table towards her. _No. No. No._ That was totally not possible. There was no way she'd just seen that. But there was the proof right in front of her. A strawberry completely drained of its color.

She reluctantly grabbed the strawberry and held it up. Bonnie twisted it around in her fingers, examining it from every possible angle. It looked, well, like a perfectly drained strawberry. If Bonnie had glimpsed one of those at a supermarket, she would have assumed it was a rare species of pure white strawberry imported from somewhere across the sea.

"How'd you...?" said Bonnie.

Marcy opened her mouth wide.

"Fangs, Bonnie baby," she said. "Fangs."

Bonnie closed her fist around the strawberry. She squeezed it, like she thought it might bleed red through the gaps in her fingers. But that strawberry was all out of red. Probably still tasted the same.

She opened her palm. Bonnie let the strawberry fall out of her hand, roll across the tabletop, and tumble to the floor. Bonnie didn't know what to say at this point. She felt like her brain goo was being pulled in seven directions. 

Fortunately, Finn and Kara rushed to the rescue. They arrived just in time to stop Bonnie from going on another skepticism-fueled rant. Not that Bonnie wanted to go on a rant. But she felt like she had to. The angry nerd part of her Bonnie’s brain was itching for a spirited debate and a thorough debunking. 

Kara looked better. She was less pale, she could walk by herself, and there were no bags under her eyes. She must have actually gotten a good night's sleep.

"Kara!" said Bonnie.

She rushed out of her seat. Bonnie wasn't usually in a hugging mood, but screw it. Bonnie had been on pins and needles all night, worried to death about Kara. Maybe her and Kara weren't exactly best friends, but Kara meant a lot to Finn.

Bonnie wrapped Kara in a bone-crushing hug, burying her face in Kara's broad chest. Kara was warm. Warm and alive. It felt like a miracle, like some kind of divine intervention. Last night had just wrung all of the emotions out of Bonnie. She really lost her cool.

She retreated, her arms falling to her sides. She was blushing. Had Bonnie really just hugged one of her fellow employees? That had to be against the rules. Bonnie was prepared to give herself a lengthy write-up for that obvious breach of protocol. Ugh. Bonnie had to go back to work after all this, didn’t she? _How? How the hell?_ If Bonnie’s brain was splitting apart in Simon’s house, Pizza Sassy might actually break her in two like a candy cane. 

Kara patted Bonnie's head. It was an awkward gesture, but the whole moment was awkward.

"Thanks," said Kara.

Bonnie grabbed Kara's arm and steered her towards the table. Fortunately, Kara didn't resist. There was no way Bonnie would have been able to move her if she did. Physical health and mental health were closely linked—Bonnie had written and read many essays about the subject—but Bonnie still wasn’t sold on gym life. Maybe it was about time she started working out for real? 

"So what do you remember?" said Bonnie. "What happened? Do you remember going all bonzo on us or what?"

Kara furrowed her brow, clumsily fumbling through her own memories. 

Demonic possession was always tricky, at least in Simon’s limited experience. It was so difficult—pretty much impossible—to prove because so many cases turned out to be drugs, mental illness, or a combination of both. But Kara was an actual live subject, a woman who’d experienced confirmed possession less than twenty-four hours ago. Simon had so many questions he probably didn’t have time to ask. 

"I...I was gone," said Kara. "Inside my head. I heard a voice. It made me feel so scared. But...but I don't remember anything it said."

Kara looked away. Bonnie had a feeling that last part was a complete lie, but she didn't press. Kara had been through enough. Pestering trauma victims for details usually didn't end well. Bonnie needed Kara lucid and willing to talk.

Simon started fumbling with his apron.

"Did you see anything before it happened?" said Simon. "A face? Green eyes?"

The apron crumpled to the floor. Simon didn't seem to notice. He just stepped over it, his face twisted in worry as he approached the table. Interviewing victims was never fun. Nine times out of ten, they were a child suffering from mental illness who was being doped up by uncaring or ignorant guardians. If Simon was being honest, he found those stories more heartbreaking than possession. He was relieved that Kara was—probably--not one of those cases. But it had been a while since Simon talked to an actual victim of demonic possession. 

Kara shuddered. She looked so big and tough, like she could snap anyone in half. But Kara was human. And like most humans, sometimes Kara was scared shitless. 

"I saw a snail," said Kara. "It was waving at me from the kitchen window."

Simon frowned and rubbed his chin.

"So that's how," he said. "I see. Very interesting. _Very_ interesting. But why?"

Marcy laughed. She tossed a handful of drained strawberries back into the container and shut it. She'd been watching the whole exchange like it was the best free entertainment. Just snacking on strawberries and watching from the sidelines. This was all old news to Marcy. Everything they were talking about sounded like a typical weekend to her. It was hilarious how humans—other than ultra-nerds like Simon—were so casually dismissive and boring. 

"Because he's a total bleeblop," said Marcy. "And a flipping coward."

Simon waved his hand dismissively.

"Yes, I think we can all agree that the Lich is bleeblop as heck," said Simon. "But why now? Is it sending me a message? Does it want us to know it's here? Why abandon a vessel so quickly?"

He snapped his finger as an idea fired off in his big nerdy brain. Simon had been looking at this through the lens of a casual possession. But that was outside the Lich’s usual M.O., wasn’t it? 

"Maybe Kara was never intended to be the vessel," said Simon. "Maybe a vessel, but not the vessel. No, it has someone else in mind."

Finn slammed his fist into his open palm and grinned. Those sounded like fighting words. Finn had been itching to punch something ever since this whole thing started. 

"So we gotta smoke this guy before he jumps into someone else?" he said. "Shouldn't be too hard."

Bonnie spoke before thinking. By the time she processed what she was saying, the words were already out of her mouth.

"It's here for a reason," said Bonnie. "It's planning to jump into someone in Candace. But who?"

Bonnie cringed inwardly. _Oh Grod_. What had she become? 

But Simon nodded in agreement, which somehow made Bonnie feel even worse. All of this would have been so much easier if it made less sense. Bonnie needed it to make less sense. She needed to find some inconsistency she could exploit. But of course that wasn't going to happen. This was airtight and it was driving Bonnie bonzo-beans-bonkers.

"I have an idea," said Simon. "It's a long shot, but I think I might be on to something."

He frowned. This was definitely a shot in the dark. But that was the one unifying element between science and the occult. It was always a shot in the dark.

* * *

Jake scrolled through Finn's last eight messages for the billionth time.

According to the messages, Finn was spending the night with a friend. That was fine, but Jake wished Finn had just called him. But instead Jake found Finn's empty bedroom and eight unread messages. Not the best start to Jake's day. And that was after Jake finished cooking up a fantastic breakfast of bacon pancakes and leftover spaghetti.

Now Jake was lounging on the couch with his phone. He was waiting for Finn to send him another message. Something about how Finn was heading home ASAP. Jake would have messaged first, but he didn't want to be one of those older brothers. He knew Finn was shouldering a lot of adult responsibilities. It didn't seem fair to keep treating Finn like he was a toddler.

Jake rolled off the couch and onto the floor. It was supposed to look super cool, but it actually looked like Jake did it by accident. Good thing Finn wasn't there to see that blunder. Jake would have never heard the end of it.

He got to his feet, rubbing his bruised shoulder. Jake needed food. He'd already eaten breakfast, but he could always just eat Finn's share. Finn would never know. As long as Jake kept his hands off the Finn Cakes, he was fine. An unspoken rule between them. Finn could forgive almost anything except outright theft of his beloved Finn-shaped cupcakes. Jake didn’t get how or why, but he didn’t ask. 

Jake walked into the kitchen, his phone stuffed into his pocket. Jake told himself he wasn't worried about Finn. After all, Finn was an adult. Well, almost. Soon enough, Finn would be married to whatever guy or gal caught his attention. Married with three kids and a nice big house with a barn. Or maybe Jake was getting ahead of himself. Finn wasn’t even older enough to vote yet. 

He scooped Finn's bacon pancakes onto a plate. Jake thought it was a pretty good deal: he did most of the cooking and Finn did, well, everything else. Including the daunting task of having a steady pair of jobs instead of whatever Jake did. Finn was a good kid. Jake was lucky to have him. If he’d been stuck with anyone else, Jake probably would have just kept building up his impressive criminal record. Not that his record was anything impressive. Just some shoplifting and maybe a few robberies. Jake had given up that life a long time ago. 

Jake frowned. He was hearing noises from one of the other apartments. Again. Couldn't they keep it down in there? It was way too early in the morning and the walls were way too thin. Some people were sleeping. 

He banged his fist on the wall and shouted.

"Hey, keep it down in there," said Jake. "Don't make me come over there."

Of course he wasn't going to, but the threat seemed to work. The noises stopped. Jake could finally eat in peace.

Jake sighed. No one told him that raising his little brother in a crappy apartment would be difficult. No one told him about all the unwanted noise. No one told Jake about the lonely breakfast mornings. But that last one was probably going to be a lot more common in the future. Finn was going to have late nights. Thank Glob Jake never gave him a curfew to break. 

Jake started to head back to the couch, but his phone chimed. Jake almost dropped his plate of food. He quickly placed it on the nearest flat surface and started digging around in his pocket, wrestling with the phone. Jake's hands were shaking and sweaty, his relief cleaved by a horrible sense of dread.

It was a message from Rain. She wanted to know if he still wanted to go out for drinks next Saturday.

Smothering his disappointment, Jake forced himself to give Rain a simple prompt answer. Of course it wasn't up his usual bombastic quality, but Jake was sure Rain wouldn't notice. And he did want to get drinks with her. Next Saturday just sounded so far away. Jake wished Rain could move in with them, but he knew that was pushing it. There was only one bedroom. They used to have a third roommate—Shelby--but he moved all the way across the country to attend some fancy art school. 

The noises started up again, but Jake didn't notice.

* * *

Finn fell back into a chair, his limbs slumping over the sides. He was gaping, his eyes lit up with a lethal mix of excitement and horror. It was the most Finn expression Bonnie had ever seen. It told Bonnie that Finn was up for doing something reckless.

"Billy?" said Finn. "_The_ Billy? Oh my _crease_." 

He looked around, shocked. How was everyone else not freaking out about this? Did they seriously not know about Billy? Was Finn the only cool person in the room? Or was everyone else trying to be all adult about their enthusiasm? Well, bunk that. Finn felt like he had every right to start screaming at the top of his lungs. This might have been the best day of his entire life. 

"Who the heck is Billy?" said Bonnie.

The name rang a bell, but she wasn't sure. 

Marcy rolled her eyes and hooked an arm around Bonnie's shoulder.

"Seriously, Bon-Bon?" said Marcy. "Billy's a legend." 

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. That told her absolutely nothing. In Bonnie’s experience, legends were people who founded empires or made important scientific discoveries. But Billy didn’t sound like either. He sounded like a guy who worked at a fast food place and smelled like burnt fries. He sounded like the kind of guy who drove a beat-up old truck and smoked two packs a day. 

"Is he, like, a scientist?" said Bonnie.

Bouncing with excitement, Finn waved his arms.

"No, he's a legend," said Finn. "The greatest rock star to ever live. And he lives in my apartment building." 

Bonnie wracked her brains, but of course she still had zero clue. Bonnie wasn't particularly into "rock music". She just didn't see the appeal. Bonnie was more of a soft pop kind of girl.

"So what about him?" said Bonnie.

Simon tossed an armful of dirty plates into the sink. He twitched his fingers over the faucet, grinning slightly as the water gushed out automatically. One of Simon's own inventions. A little experiment with some very rudimentary tech. Of course the dishwasher was always the easier option, but that thing was never not on the fritz. Simon had given up trying to fix it. 

"There's this book I've been tracking," said Simon. "An ancient spooky tome rumored to contain hidden esoteric knowledge."

He squirted some dish soap into the sink.

"I believe Billy might have stumbled across that tome," said Simon. "He used to be quite the tomb raider before he retired to focus on his music. I'm not convinced he donated all of his most valuable artifacts to a museum."

Bonnie's face lit up with recognition.

"Oh dip!" she said. "_That_ Billy? Why didn't you say that, ya donk?"

Marcy slapped Bonnie's shoulder and grinned.

"Classic Bonnibel," she said.

Bonnie ignored Marcy, although it did feel kind of cool to be validated. Of course she knew that Billy. He'd been some kind of independent archaeologist guy--a real life treasure hunter--a long time ago. Bonnie had never gotten around to finding out what happened to the guy. Apparently he'd fallen a lot farther than Bonnie predicted. But at least Billy hadn't just dropped off the face of the Earth.

Simon flipped off the water and started scrubbing the dishes. Finn was the only one who'd actually finished his omelet. Simon was a little insulted. It was his own special recipe. Perfectly balanced for maximum early morning calorie intake.

"It's called The Enchiridion," he said.

Bonnie jumped out of her chair, her heart thumping out of her chest.

"Holy crease," she said. "_The_ Enchiridion? Are you sure?"

Finn stared at Bonnie, completely shocked.

"So what is it?" he said. "Is it something cool?"

Bonnie cleared her throat, glancing at Simon. She was kind of ashamed that she even knew any of this. Considering everything she'd seen throughout the last few days, Bonnie wasn't sure how to reconcile old knowledge with all this new information.

"According to, um, stories, it was this book full of spells and demonic knowledge," said Bonnie. "No one knows where it came from or where it was first written."

Simon rubbed his chin. 

"I was tracking it," said Simon. "I first encountered it in the Hindu Kush mountain range during a routine expedition. I lost track of it a few months after I first found it. I believe Billy somehow got his hands on it.” 

He pointed at Finn, Kara, Marcy, and Bonnie. They were all gathered on the other side of the kitchen.

"I need you to break into Billy's apartment and retrieve the book," said Simon. "If he really is the Lich's target, we can't let that book fall into the wrong hands."

Bonnie stepped back and crossed her arms, skeptical.

"But breaking and entering is illegal," she said.

Marcy threw back her head and laughed.

"Wow, really?" she said. "Thanks for the heads up, Bonnibel."

Bonnie pursed her lips. She was ashamed to admit it, but the second Simon said it, she'd automatically started coming up with a plan. Bonnie had never pulled off a robbery before, but she knew how to pick locks. Bonnie could improvise a decent lock-pick in three minutes out of stuff she just had on her. And Bonnie doubted Billy's apartment was filled with cameras or some kind of alarm system. It was do-able. Unethical, but do-able. 

Finn clapped his hands together. He was apparently way more excited about breaking into his hero's apartment than Bonnie expected. Honestly, Finn just wanted a look at Billy's awesome collection of signed guitars.

"The cameras in the hallway never work," said Finn. "Me and Jake get our stuff taken all the time!"

Bonnie chewed her lip. This wasn't technically a crime, right? Yeah, they were breaking into someone's apartment and taking something that didn't belong to them. But maybe if they just borrowed it, they would be fine? Maybe not in the eyes of the law, but from a complex moral standpoint. Science wasn’t inherently ethical, but Bonnie didn’t want to outright commit a felony. 

Marcy patted Bonnie's shoulder.

"We'll bring it back," she said. "We just had to make sure that the Lich doesn't get its hands on the book. Once the coast is clear, we'll give it back."

Bonnie narrowed her eyes at Simon.

"And you can't go with us?" she said.

Simon gave her a genuinely guilty smile.

"My condition," he said. "It wouldn't be wise. And I have faith in you."

Finn pumped his fists like he was hyping himself up for a big game. The almost-rabid enthusiasm on his face solidified Bonnie's stance.

"Let's do this biz!" he said.

Bonnie forced a smile. Well, she couldn't let two of her best fellow employees do this alone. Whether she liked it or not, they were--as Finn put it--probably going to "do this biz".


	6. Friends and Stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tiny little break from the main characters.

Ever since Bonnie spilled the beans about Marcy, Peter had been in touch with some of his "people".

He wouldn't exactly call them "friends". Bonnie had met most of his friends. Peter had tea or maybe coffee with his friends once a week. But these people lived in the shadows. Peter had to fortify every means of communication at his disposal and tap into some dangerous networks just to get in contact with them. He had a whole set-up just for talking to them through secure channels.

It was a two-end street: Peter didn't know their real names and they didn't know his real name. He couldn't have tracked them down if he tried and vice versa. Not that Peter wanted to. He was fine with remaining anonymous.

His friends had given him some very _interesting_ info about this Marceline person. Peter wasn't sure it was going to hold up, but he was looking into it. If half of the stuff was true, Bonnie might be in danger. And it was Peter's job to make sure she stayed safe.

Peter unrolled his stash onto the kitchen table. His phone went off, but Peter didn't even hear it. It was probably another message from Bonnie. Probably something about her working late. That was fine with Peter. It was better if she didn't know about any of this.

It had been years since Peter used any of that stuff. But it was all in pretty good condition. The holy water was still in its vials and flasks, the wooden stakes were sharp, the crosses were shiny. It was an amateur arsenal, but more than enough to kill, well, pretty much any supernatural entity Peter had ever heard of.

He grabbed one of the stakes and flipped it over. Peter liked how it felt in his hand. Personally, he preferred a bow and silver arrows for stuff like this. But stakes were Peter’s best bet. 

He did a few practice stabbing motions and mouthed catchphrases: "All bark, no bite." "_Fangs_ for the invitation." "I guess you didn't have the _heart_." "Die, evil bloodsucking creature of the undead!"

That last one needed some work. But Peter had time. He could workshop a couple of his best ones and come up with something devastating. A good catch phrase was the second most important thing in every vampire killer’s arsenal. 

Peter returned the stake to his arsenal and rolled everything back up. Thanks to his friends, Peter knew exactly what he needed to do next. He had every tool he needed, every advantage he could give himself.

It was time to kill a vampire.

* * *

Rain wouldn’t have called herself a “witch”.

No, what she did was more involved and more definitive than traditional witchcraft. It extended far beyond normal everyday spiritualism. Finn and Jake thought Rain just liked to dabble in weird stuff. And they were right, but not in the way either of them envisioned.

Rain was sitting in her studio, a stained white apron over her clothes and a bunch of paintbrushes in her lap. She had her phone out, her fingers moving quickly as she sent Jake a text: _Drinks next Saturday? Y/N? _

She needed to talk to him about something. Rain would have loved to drop by the apartment, but she was a little swamped with work. And this was important. This was about Finn.

Rain chewed on her lip. Finn had made her promise to keep their little meetings a secret. Finn didn’t want Jake to get the wrong idea, although Rain wasn’t sure what “wrong idea” Jake was supposed to get. And Rain usually kept her promises. But a few things had happened since the last time her and Finn met. And now Rain wasn’t sure that keeping secrets was going to help anyone in the long run. Jake would want to know the full truth.

Honestly, when Finn came to her about the vampire thing, Rain thought he was full of crap. Maybe not intentionally, but Finn was a kid and kids aren’t the most reliable witnesses. Why would a vampire be hanging around Candace? And why would she reveal herself to some random people at a pizza place? It made zero sense. Either Finn was messing with her—unlikely—or he’d made a huge mistake and was about to pour holy water all over some innocent goth lady.

But Rain had seen some things. She’d _felt_ some things. It was only nightmares, but Rain wasn’t an idiot. The figures she’d seen and the emotions that rolled over her weren’t just dreams. It tied into something Rain had experienced a long time ago, a series of events heralded by similar dreams and the same weird twisting feeling deep in her gut. And if Rain was right, there was something way worse than a vampire coming to Candace.

If Finn was right about his vampire friend and Rain’s dreams were legit, there was a good chance they were all royally screwed.

* * *

Max really wanted to buy a soft serve machine.

Bonnie told him no one came to Pizza Sassy for soft serve ice cream, so why waste profits? But that was the exact same thing she’d said about snow cones. And the snow cone machine totally would have been a hit if it hadn’t broken down at the beginning of the summer. And it wasn’t Max’s fault that he couldn’t get a refund. The guy who sold it to him promised Max could get his money back if the machine conked out. Buying used or broken machines was Max’s greatest business strategy. Or at least it was when it worked.

Tony—Max’s faithful companion—told him there just wasn’t enough money for a soft serve machine. Especially if Max wanted to go the extra mile and buy a brand new not-broken-down one. 

Tony was Max’s best “employee”. Emphasis on the quotation marks. Max paid Tony under the table and there was no actual record of Tony working there. In exchange, Tony found used appliances, located places that sold discount supplies, and arranged elicit poker games. He also filled in whenever Max couldn’t make it to one of his other gigs. It was a perfect partnership. 

But now Max was pissed. He didn’t understand why running a business was so difficult. After all, he was a businessman. He managed an illegal underground gambling ring, he officiated weddings with his somewhat real credentials, he bought and sold cheap used clothes for a little extra cash on the side, and he was what Tony called “classically handsome”. Why was running Pizza Sassy so hard? 

“You could, you know, let someone go,” Tony said.

They were in Max’s back room. The _real_ back room, not the little cupboard that doubled as his office. This one could only be accessed through a Tony-sized hidden door. It was a tight squeeze, but Max managed to wedge himself through it. The room beyond was larger and more welcoming than the door suggested.

Max dramatically pressed a hand to his forehead and shut his eyes. 

“Oh, I couldn’t!” he said. “I love my loyal little gremlins. Banana Bells, Fiona, Parcel Lines, and the other ones. How could I ever throw away such dear friends? Why, it would be a travesty.”

Tony jabbed a finger at the papers on his desk.

“But boss,” he said.

Max opened his eyes and let out a long sigh. Business. So horrible and demanding. Max really should have stuck to officiating weddings and running for mayor. Pizza Sassy had been his dream, the one thing he really wanted to do with his life. And yet it was forcing him to make tough decisions. This never happened with his gambling den.

“If I must,” said Max. “As long as it is fair and just.” 

He eagerly grabbed a list of names—all of his employees on record—and closed his eyes. He held the paper in front of him, his finger running up and down the list.

“Eeenie teeny piney moe,” he chanted. 

Max opened his eyes, his finger hovering over a single name on the page. He arched his eyebrows when he saw who it was. It was such a shame. Max thought he’d be able to keep his little pizza family together for at least another year. But sacrifices had to be made for the greater good. Max needed that soft serve machine.

“Oh my, oh my, oh dear,” said Max. 

He would hate to see her go. She really was the backbone of Pizza Sassy. But Max had no choice. 

Before the day was over, Max needed to tell Bonnibel that she was fired. Well, he’d send her a strongly worded text message with plenty of emoji. Max might have been callous, but he wasn’t a barbarian. 

* * *

Betty had everything she needed: the radio, her notebooks, the external hard drives, and a strong bottle of booze. 

She readjusted the backpack on her shoulders, shifting the weight around to get a little more comfy. Crap. That thing was so heavy. But Betty did a ton of push-ups every morning, so she was probably fine. Betty was more worried about what was going to survive her long journey. Her notebooks should be alright, but Betty hoped the old clunky radio would make it.

“Thank you,” she said for the fifth time.

Norman Mann tipped his hat to her. Well, he tipped the place his hat would have been. He was still getting used to being naked from the eyebrows up.

“Oh, wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “Thank you. You’ve been such a good help to me.”

He winked at her and wiggled his fingers in a wave.

“Toodle-oooo,” said Norman.

Betty reluctantly wiggled her fingers back. She was going to miss the little weirdo. 

She leaned forward and hoisted her backpack. She nearly toppled over from the weight, like someone had tried to tackle her. Maybe she shouldn’t have packed all those magazines? 

“Sure you can’t stay?” said Norman. “I just made scones.”

Betty frowned, wondering why the heck Norman would make scones if he knew she was leaving. Even now, he was such an unreadable human being. Unreadable and probably very lonely. 

Before the guilt could kick in, Betty gave him a firm head shake in reply. No, she couldn’t. They both knew that. Betty couldn’t stay for scones, she couldn’t stay for a few gulps of good coffee, she couldn’t stay for a nice cup of soothing tea, she couldn’t stay for dinner or breakfast or whatever else Norman was cooking. It wrecked her to realize it, but Betty had been postponing this goodbye for way too long.

“It’s almost sunrise,” she said.

She gave Norman one last hug before she left. Betty felt a little weird about taking his hat with her, but Norman insisted. Betty had earned it. 

Betty left without looking back. She had no idea when she was going to get there. It could be days, it could be weeks. It most likely would be months. But any amount of time was worth it. 

The pieces were in place. The players were ready. It was time for Betty to do some magic.


	7. Breaking and Entering and Stuff

Finn wouldn’t stop talking about Billy. It got old really fast, but Bonnie couldn’t just tell him to shut up. The poor kid needed something to distract him from what they were about to do. And Bonnie needed an excuse to think about anything other than the fact that they were committing an actual B and E in broad daylight.

The worst part was the fact that Billy was a stranger. If he’d been a friend or something, Bonnie would have felt a thousand times better. One time—and Bonnie felt like crap about this—she’d snatched Finn’s pudding cup from the break room fridge without asking. In her defense, Finn’s name wasn’t on it, so it was technically fair game. How was Bonnie supposed to be okay with stealing metaphorical pudding from a guy she didn’t even know?

“…..and he totally fought a bear and it was the most mathematical thing ever….,” Finn was saying. 

Bonnie didn’t have the heart to interrupt Finn’s rambling. Billy was old now, a former hero living in a crappy cheap apartment. If Simon was right, Billy pretty much only left to buy food or hang out with his girlfriend. Maybe he used to be a legend who—and Bonnie was skeptical—actually fought bears and explored ancient ruins, but now he was just some old guy with a girlfriend who’d burned through most of his money. Finn was probably going to be disappointed.

Bonnie rubbed her shoulder. She was wearing one of Marcy’s jackets and she had a green backpack slung over her shoulders. The backpack—which looked a lot like her own—was on loan from Simon. Simon told her it had once belonged to someone named “Betty”. Bonnie didn’t press for further details. A backpack is a backpack. 

“Uh, Marceline?” said Bonnie. “Have you ever, um, _done it_ before?” 

Marcy arched an eyebrow, a grin spreading across her pale face. It was overcast today, so no need for an umbrella. Marcy had her emergency sun hat stashed in Bonnie’s backpack. That was the best part of the colder season: the cloud cover.

“You’re so gross, B-B,” said Marcy.

Bonnie’s cheeks flushed red. She squeezed her fingers into the tight space between the backpack straps and her jacket, making sure it was nice and secure back there.

“I meant like breaking and entering,” said Bonnie. “_Geez_.” 

Marcy shrugged her shoulders. 

“Don’t know, Bonnie,” she said. “Have you?” 

Bonnie rolled her eyes. Wow. Best dodge in the history of dodging right there. But Marcy’s question did force her to again re-evaluate what they were doing. They were committing a crime for the sake of….. Bonnie didn’t even know anymore. Did she still believe Simon was delusional and everyone else was encouraging him? Or was she rolling with the punches by this point? A little bit of both, if she was being honest. Bonnie just wanted peace. And, well, sometimes peace meant breaking into an apartment with a teenage boy and a sexy vampire lady.

Marcy nudged Bonnie’s shoulder. 

“Come on, princess,” she said. “You can’t be that squeaky-clean. Haven’t you ever crimed before? Just a little?”

Bonnie moved away from Marcy. They were all walking too close together. Bonnie was boxed in with Finn on one side and Marcy on the other. It wasn’t entirely unwelcome. If Bonnie ignored Finn’s rambling, it was almost comfy just having Marcy so close to her.

“We’re not all delinquents,” said Bonnie. 

Maybe that was too harsh and judgmental, but it was true. Bonnie’s sins—if she could even call them that—were more personal.

They reached Billy’s apartment. From the outside, it looked pretty average. Nothing to suggest anyone important lived there. Definitely no indication that a former “adventurer”--as Finn called him—had retired to live a decidedly normal life. Bonnie had so many questions.

Marcy tried the door. To her surprise, the knob turned. No lock-picking required.

Marcy nudged the door open with her foot and stuck her head inside. Marcy grabbed both sides of the door frame like she thought it might try to suck her in. She didn't say anything, which seemed a little off brand for her. Marcy must have had the same hollow sinking feeling in her gut. If people like her could even get hollow sinking feelings, which would have been a revelation to Bonnie. 

"Blee-blops," said Finn.

There couldn't have been much to see. From where Bonnie and the others stood, all they could see was a deep void of darkness. Billy must have shut off all the lights and maybe covered the windows for maximum dark. Interesting choice.

Marcy finally stepped aside. She bowed and gestured towards the abyss.

"After you, Bonnibel," she said.

Bonnie snorted and rolled her eyes. She slid her backpack off one shoulder and dug a flashlight out of it. It was one of those big searchlight-style ones with a beam that could reach across the ocean. Probably overkill, but it was the only one Simon had in his house. And there was no way Bonnie was going in there without a light. 

She flipped on the flashlight and marched into the apartment. Finn, Kara, and Marcy were right behind her. In that order. Marcy hung back a few seconds, letting them all get ahead of her. When they were all in, Marcy shut the door with her foot, blocking out any extra light from the hallway.

Bonnie swung her light back and forth like, well, a search lamp. Billy's apartment was a mess. There were stacks of takeout containers all over the coffee table and couch, pieces of broken furniture piled up like a fire pit, and clothes hanging from the light fixtures. It looked like a frat boy party house, except less bras in blenders and more boxers slung over the couch. What the heck happened in there? 

"Wha--?" Bonnie started.

Kara flicked on the light. She found the switch almost immediately. It was right there on the wall next to the door. 

"Need to see," she said.

Her cheeks flushed red, Bonnie flipped off the massive flashlight. She shoved it back into her backpack. _Oh. Right. Lights._ For some reason she thought the building was no longer pumping electricity into this apartment. It gave off this vibe of being completely abandoned. Maybe it was the pile of pizza crusts in front of the door. Bonnie wrinkled her nose, massively grossed out by the stink. 

Marcy patted Bonnie on the shoulder. Bonnie couldn't tell if Marcy was comforting her or being a smug asshole again. Probably somewhere right in the middle.

"Holy crease!" Finn said.

The bookcase was overflowing with old books. Based on wear, the youngest volumes there had to be at least a couple hundred years old. There were mugs on the coffee table filled with various shiny trinkets. An unlocked chest--its contents glinting in the light--was shoved into one corner.

Marcy floated over to the coffee table and grabbed a mug. She turned it over, spilling a bunch of brightly-colored marbles all over the floor.

"Woof," she said. "People live like this?"

Bonnie darted forward and snatched the mug out of Marcy's hand. She shook it at her like she was scolding a pet.

"The heck are you doing, ya donk?" she said. "Do you _want_ Billy to know we were peeping his stuff?"

Marcy grabbed the mug back and held it over her head. She floated up a few inches so Bonnie couldn't reclaim the mug. It was the ultimate cheat for a game of keep-away. Absolutely not fair.

"Chill," said Marcy. "You think he's gonna notice? For realsies?"

Bonnie bit her lip and rubbed her arm. Why did she feel like she was the only one who wasn’t okay with this? Marcy was acting like this was a vacation, Finn was being a total fanboy again, and Kara seemed pretty neutral. None of this was right. They should have been complaining about work or whatever friends did when they weren’t making or delivering pizza. 

"I just don't want us to, like, get in trouble," she said. "Is that banyangles?"

Marcy returned the mug to the table. She bent over and scooped up some of the fallen marbles. She had to dig some of them out of the carpet. Marcy tried not to feel all the crumb build-up from months of not vacuuming. One thing she and Bonnie probably agreed on: this place needed some serious cleaning.

"No," said Marcy. "I get it. This isn't your thing."

Bonnie spread her arms, the volume of her voice rising several more levels than it needed to.

"Um, duh!" she said. "Of course breaking and entering isn't my "thing", Marceline."

Finn interrupted what might have developed into a full-blown debate.

"Hey guys," he said.

Finn and Kara were over by the bookcase. They had pulled most of the books off the shelves.

Bonnie and Marcy rushed over to them, jumping over empty pizza boxes and narrowly avoiding the corners of furniture. It was amazing how much stuff Billy had crammed into that tiny apartment. 

Finn handed one of the books to Kara.

"It's not here," he said.

Bonnie's first irrational thought was that Simon had sent them on a wild goose chase. Of course there was no ancient book recovered from a distant mountain range. And Billy probably wasn't even in on it. Was this even Billy's apartment? Or had they broken into some poor guy's trash pile of a home and now they were rooting through his stuff like animals?

But Marcy pointed at an open doorway. The one room they’d overlooked. None of them were brave enough to go into the kitchen. Marcy could picture it: rotting food in the fridge, piles of filthy dishes in the sink, stained floor. She didn’t even need to imagine it. The stench painted her a pretty vivid picture. 

"Bedroom," she said.

She led all of them into the darkened room. This time Finn found the light switch and flipped on the light.

The bedroom was even worse than the living room. There was a TV--one of those old-fashioned bulky boob tubes--set up in front of the bed. The screen was cracked and it wasn't even plugged in. Billy seemed to have been using it as a makeshift table, judging by all the empty beer cans and clothes draped over it. The bed had been stripped, leaving a stained mattress. There were empty suitcases all over the floor and of course pizza boxes. 

"Woof," said Marcy.

She said what they were all thinking. Well, all of them except for Finn.

Finn rushed over to the TV and grabbed one of the stained shirts. He pressed the filthy piece of clothing against his face and inhaled. It had to be at least several weeks old. From what Finn had said on the way over, Bonnie suspected Billy hardly ever left his apartment.

"Billy," Finn said.

Bonnie snatched the shirt from him and tossed it into a corner.

"Finn, no," she said. "Bad."

Finn frowned, but he didn't object. He just wasn't used to being in Billy's lair. He was probably Billy's biggest fan and the only person on the planet who knew Billy's entire history. Jake was going to be so fucking jealous when Finn told him. Maybe he'd leave out the part about committing a felony.

Marcy and Kara flipped the mattress. They found stacks of money and a few gold coins, but no Enchiridion.

Billy didn't have a dresser, but he did have a nightstand. Bonnie yanked the drawer out and felt along the bottom. Nothing, except for a few ticket stubs and a photo of a woman with dyed blue hair. Apparently Billy wasn't careless enough to stuff a priceless book in a drawer.

Finn dropped down to all fours and stuck his head under the bed. Empty boxes and what appeared to be condom wrappers. No book.

"Blee-blop-it," he said. "Its gotta be here. Right?"

Bonnie was feeling along the walls for a hidden storage space or something. She didn't answer Finn's question. No, it didn't have to be there. Writing off Simon again and again was tiring, but Bonnie was starting to believe he'd been playing with them. Why would one of the most priceless books in the world be in Billy's gross apartment? Why wouldn't he have stashed it in a storage facility somewhere?

Kara yanked a landscape painting off the wall. She held it awkwardly for a moment, squinting in disbelief at what she'd found. She dropped the painting and clapped her hands together like an excited toddler.

"Safe!" said Kara.

Almost instantly, everyone was gathered around her. It was a safe. A standard wall safe with a six-digit passcode. Billy must have had it installed himself. Bonnie doubted it came with the apartment.

Bonnie's heart thumped in her ears. There was a more-than-zero chance that the safe was full of money or jewels or something equally useless to them. That was what people normally kept in safes, right? But if it wasn't, if this was actually what they needed...

Kara leaned forward and read off the words printed on the safe.

"'Warning: This unit locks after three failed attempts'," she said.

Bonnie swallowed. _Crap_. Safe-cracking was a skill Bonnie hadn't really obtained. It was a game of information and chance, but she had zero real life experience. And she didn't have any tools with her. This was instantly a disaster. 

"Billy's birthday?" said Finn.

Bonnie grabbed Finn's wrist to stop him. From a tactical standpoint, they had everything they needed to crack the safe: a Billy expert, a scientist, a Marcy, and a Kara. But also from a tactical standpoint, they were screwed if that safe locked up on them.

"Too obvious," said Bonnie. "Finn, we need more Billy numbers. The real nerd stuff."

Finn rattled off all the Billy numbers he knew off the top of his head. He started off with the more obscure numbers. Very few people knew the exact amount of money Billy made from his first big research haul. And beyond that, Finn had a lot of random Billy-related things that Bonnie could translate into a numeric language.

But it was too many numbers and not enough chances. Was it the last few digits of the phone number of Billy's favorite college professor? Or was it the letters-to-numbers translation of the title of his favorite Victorian novel? Or was it a completely random set of numbers that meant everything to Billy and nothing to an outsider?

Bonnie rubbed her chin. Normally she loved puzzles. But in a high stress situation with everything to lose? Bonnie would have preferred a cheat sheet. Why couldn’t Billy be one of those people who wrote down their passcode in a locked box and locked that box with another passcode? That was how Peter did it. And Peter had zero clue that Bonnie had broken into his locked box and peeped his stuff. Bonnie really wished she hadn’t. That was a side of Peter Butler she would have rather kept hidden. 

"Give me an hour," she said.

Marcy rolled her eyes, her arms folded. She stepped forward, gently nudging Bonnie aside so she could stand in front of the safe.

"Chill out, Bon-Bon," she said. "Marcy's got this."

Before anyone could stop her, Marcy typed some numbers into the keypad.

There was a slight buzzing sound. A second later, everyone heard the subtle click of the lock releasing. The safe was open for business.

Bonnie stared at the unlocked safe. She wasn't sure whether to be pissed or impressed. Pissed because Marcy could have imploded one of their three chances. Impressed because Marcy shaved about fifty-five minutes off of her original estimate.

"Holy Grod," said Bonnie. "How'd you do that?"

Marcy flexed, tapping her bicep and grinning. So that was what she brought to the table: impulsive behavior that somehow worked out. Bonnie was the brains, Finn was the fanboy, and Kara was the brawn. The dream team.

"The name of the lake where he met his girlfriend," said Marcy. "Had a feeling you'd skip that one, Bonnibel."

Bonnie folded her arms and looked away, her cheeks flushing red. She felt like Marcy had just insulted her, but she wasn't entirely certain. And Marcy was right: Bonnie had filed that away as something Billy would never use as a passcode. She didn’t even know why. Something about it struck her as too sentimental for someone like Billy. But did she actually know him? Or did Bonnie just know the version from the stories? 

Finn yanked open the safe. He expected it to be gold and jewels. Maybe a private diary or scandalous photos. Even Finn couldn't imagine what the legendary Billy would keep in a wall safe. It had to be something mathematical. 

"Oh my _crease_," he said.

It sat there, completely taking up the safe's interior. It was larger than Simon described and it looked even older. The cover and several pages seemed to be rotting, but it was still in good shape. In the middle of the cover, a circle studded with jewels enclosed an illustration of berries, a sword, a bird, and a skull. The title was printed above the illustration: Enchiridion.

Bonnie grabbed the book. She cradled it in her arms, her eyes burning with tears. She couldn't believe she was holding one of the oldest and most priceless artifacts in the world. Bonnie was almost worried it might turn to dust in her hands. How had something this bongo-balls been bouncing around for centuries? How had it ended up in this disgusting apartment? 

Marcy wrapped her arm around Bonnie's shoulders.

"Whoa, B-B," she said. "Chill. It's just a book."

Bonnie shook her head, holding the book against her chest. Supernatural or not, this book was worth way too much money and research to be stuffed in a safe in Billy's messy apartment. Bonnie wanted to take it home and pore over every page until her eyes stopped working. But they’d made a promise to Simon. Any poring had to happen at Simon’s house. 

Marcy slid her arm off Bonnie's shoulder and clapped her hands for attention. 

"Okay, book got," she said. "Time to go?"

Finn reached over and touched the book's spine. He would have touched the cover, but Bonnie jumped away from him and pressed the book harder against her chest.

"Finn, be careful," said Bonnie. "This book is ancient."

Finn pouted. Yes, it was ancient, but it was also cool and it belonged to Billy. Finn thought he had every right to touch it. He was the president—and only member—of Candace’s chapter of Billy’s awesome fan club. 

"This is, like, the coolest nerd thing," said Finn. "I wanna hold it."

Bonnie stepped away from him and shook her head.

"Absolutely flipping not," she said. "This is a piece of history. It needs to be in a museum. You're not getting your Finn germs all over it."

She didn't care that she was being a child about this. If Finn took that book from her, he was probably never giving it back. And Bonnie needed to make sure it was legit. If this really was what Simon claimed, it needed to be researched. And the second they didn’t need it anymore, Bonnie was donating it to the local museum. Maybe not the best place for something so valuable and important, but it was better than having it rot away in some guy’s library. 

Marcy grabbed Bonnie's shoulder.

"Come on, dorks," she said. "Let's get our donking butts out of here."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. She was just happy that Marcy wasn't trying to take the book from her. Glob. Didn't any of them care that this book was literally thousands of years old? It was worth millions of hours of research by itself. Bonnie couldn't wait to brag to all her online science buddies. None of them were going to believe this. 

"Chill, Marceline," said Bonnie. "What's our hurry?"

Marcy jerked her thumb at something behind her. There was one place in the room they hadn’t searched, but mostly because they’d kept overlooking it. It was out of the way, easy to miss if you weren’t accustomed to the room layout. The door was slightly cracked, something Bonnie and the others had definitely ignored. 

"Uh, so, the big donking creepo staring at us from the closet?" said Marcy.

Bonnie felt like someone cracked an icicle in her chest. The book almost slipped from her suddenly numb hands, but she pressed it even harder against her. She tried not to look, but her gaze immediately flickered to the closet. It was in the corner of the room near the door. It was small, barely large enough to hold a few coats and maybe two shirts. 

A pair of eyes--one unnaturally vibrant and the other a pinprick of green in a dark void--stared out from a crack in the door. The light from the bedroom slightly illuminated the figure, revealing what seemed to be a chasm where the nose should have been. The figure appeared to be crouching with its hands on its knees, otherwise it wouldn't have fit inside the closet.

"Billy?" said Finn.

Bonnie had zero time to dissect that. She shoved the book into Marcy's arms, grabbed Finn's wrist, and sprinted out of that bedroom. She didn't even stop to make sure Kara and Marcy were following them. She just ran, hauling Finn behind her. Bonnie could hear her heart in her ears, the pounding drowning out her footsteps.

Bonnie didn't stop in the living room. She dragged Finn through the open front door and into the brightly-lit hallway. Bonnie didn’t stop until they sprinted over the threshold. She didn’t let go of Finn’s wrist until she knew they were out. Bonnie kept expecting to feel a tug, to feel someone trying to drag Finn back into that apartment. Bonnie was tensed, ready to fight for Finn’s life. 

Marcy and Kara were right behind her. Kara was the last one out of the apartment. She slammed the door behind them.

Bonnie's entire body was shaking. She wasn't sure what she'd seen. She almost thought she hadn't seen anything. Maybe something in the closet caught the light and just looked like a pair of creepy eyes. Or maybe--in her panic--she'd confused a pair of perfectly normal human eyes for something horrifying. Either option seemed more plausible than the truth.

But Bonnie knew exactly what she'd heard, what had pumped the panic into her chest. A split second before her and Finn left the room, Bonnie heard it. It wasn't an auditory hallucination. It was as real as anything else she'd seen.

A wheeze. A short low wheeze. Followed by the sound of a closet door opening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real spooks have arrived.


	8. Sleepovers and Stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we're back! Happy New Year.

Simon was wringing his hands and staring at his flip phone.

Having friends was a new experience for him. And having friends that might actually call him seemed even more improbable. And yet Simon was waiting by his phone, bundled up in a sweater and jeans with a cup of coffee in his hands.

Simon had brewed two pots, just in case his new friends wanted some when they got back. Simon didn't know how they took their coffee, so he'd brought out sugar, cream, and chocolate sauce. He wasn't sure which one of them he expected to go for that last one. Bonnie maybe?

He chewed his lip. Should he call them and ask how it was going? Or was that too clingy? About an hour ago, Finn texted him to announce that they'd arrived at Billy's place and Billy wasn't home. It had been dark since that one brief text.

Simon took a very long sip of his coffee. It burned his tongue, but he hardly noticed. Simon wanted to believe in his little group, but he honestly had zero faith in them. Bonnie and Marcy kept snipping at each other like high-schoolers, Finn was literally a kid, and Kara didn't seem suited to this kind of high stakes work.

But what were his choices here? Simon couldn't retrieve the book himself. He also couldn't have asked just one of them to go. It was too dangerous. As likely as they all were to mess this up, they had a better chance of getting in there and grabbing the book.

Simon grabbed the phone. _Screw it._ If Simon was going to crack this biz, he needed to make sure everyone was okay. He couldn't just be the guy on the sidelines waiting for everything to work out.

His phone beeped. Simon jumped and almost dropped it. It had been ages since anyone called him or sent him a text. Simon wasn't used to that noise.

He flipped his phone open and read the text. Simon frowned, puzzled. What the heck was this? Some kind of riddle? Word play?

The text read: _biltt teh lucg._

Simon tried to unscramble it, but even his massive science nerd brain was stumped.

His phone beeped again. Another text. This one read: _Belly the lick._ Less cryptic than the last one, but still baffling. Was Finn butt-dialing him? Or butt-texting him?

A final text came two minutes later: _billy the lich._

Simon was pretty sure his heart stopped. He didn't even know he had a heart that _could_ stop, but that was definitely what it felt like.

* * *

Bonnie had both hands over her face. She was trying to say something, but her tongue was limp and useless in her mouth and her throat was like sandpaper.

Kara was leaning her entire weight against the apartment door. She hadn't heard anything from the other side, but she wasn't taking any chances. She knew exactly what she'd seen. She knew what she'd _felt,_ looking into those eyes.

"So we've got the book," said Marcy. "Let's flipping leave!"

Finn was pacing, his fists clenched.

"We can't just go," he said. "We can't just leave Billy."

There were tears in his eyes. Billy was his hero. One of the good guys. How could this have happened to him? How many friends was Finn going to have to see go through this?

Marcy grabbed Finn by the shoulders and shook him. Her eyes were wide and she looked slightly insane.

"Dude, Billy's gone," she said. "Did you _see_ that biz? The Lich totes messed him up. He's _dead,_ Finn."

Finn swallowed, choking on a tidal wave of angry tears.

"Shut your donking mouth," he said.

But Marcy didn't let go of Finn's shoulders. She yanked him closer, looking deep into his tear-filled eyes.

"Did you see his face?" she said. _"Did you see his face?"_

It was a dumb question. They'd all seen his face, or at least part of it. It was burned into their brains. That hadn't been the face of someone who was alive and okay. It wasn't even the face of someone possessed like Kara had been. It was the face of a walking corpse given life by an unnatural force.

Bonnie shook her head. She was slumped against the wall, her eyes unfocused and hollow.

"No," she said. "No no no _no._ It was a hallucination. A trick of the light."

Marcy spun to face Bonnie, her face filled with rage. None of them had ever seen Marcy so genuinely pissed off. She looked like she wanted to wring someone's neck.

"Are you still on that, B-B?" said Marcy. "For real? Oh my _Glob._ How are you this flipping dense?"

Bonnie uncovered her face. There were tears running down her cheeks.

"If this is real, it's...it's...," she said.

She swallowed.

"It's _scary,"_ said Bonnie. "I'm _scared,_ okay? _Glob._ I don't want to believe any of this is real because I'm about to donking mess my pants. I mean, have you seen this crud? It's nutso-banana-bonkers-bears!"

Marcy let go of Finn. She floated over to Bonnie and--to the surprise of both of them--gave her a big bear hug.

"Geez, Bonnibel," said Marcy. "Why didn't you say that? You had me, like, freaked out."

Bonnie returned the hug. Normally she wasn't up for random physical contact, but she could make an exception because she really _really_ needed it. Bonnie felt like she was going to fall apart, but Marcy was pretty good at holding her together.

_"You_ were freaked out?" said Bonnie. "You're a donking vampire!"

Kara tapped her fist against the closed apartment door.

"What should we do about him?" she said.

She jumped as she heard a voice from the other side of the door. It spoke in a low rasp, its skinless lips somehow able to form words. Whatever that thing on the other side was, Marcy was right: it definitely wasn't Billy. Not anymore. The voice sounded too much like something dead, like something that had crawled out of a crypt.

"We have found the tunnel," said the Lich. "Soon we will sail from here on bodies made of dust. But do not despair, children. The universe flies to its conception again and again and again. The stars shatter and the night sky is silent. You will all be silent."

Marcy slammed her fist against the door.

"Shut up, ya donk," she said. "Why don't you come out and fight me, huh?"

The Lich laughed. It sounded like dry paper rubbing against rotting wood.

"There will be other fights," it said. "There will be other souls. I am beyond light. I am beyond darkness. I am the end, come to consume you."

Marcy rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said. "Have fun in there, you butt."

She grabbed Finn and Bonnie by the wrists and marched them away from the door. Marcy could hear the Lich leaving, but she ignored it. If it wasn't going to come out there and get its ass kicked, why even bother?

Kara followed, holding the book against her chest like it was the most valuable thing in the world.

"Um, shouldn't we do something about that?" said Bonnie.

She noticed that Marcy's hand was shaking. Maybe if Marcy had been on her own, she would have kicked down the door and tried to fight that thing. But Marcy had three squishy humans with her. Finn and Kara might have been able to fend for themselves--and probably Bonnie--but this was serious shit. They couldn't afford to take hits.

"Oh yeah?" said Marcy. "Got any ideas, Bonnibel? We're lucky it's not trying to bake our beans. We need Simon."

Bonnie frowned. Why _wasn't_ it trying to bake their beans? Why wasn't it chasing after them? Didn't evil baddies usually get pissed when their prey slipped away?

She stopped in her tracks, forcing Marcy to freeze in place.

"It wants Simon," she said.

Marcy turned to face her, her eyebrows climbing her forehead.

"What?" she said.

Bonnie yanked her wrist out of Marcy's grip. She idly rubbed her wrist, even though Marcy hadn't been squeezing too hard. She felt like an idiot for not putting it together immediately. In Bonnie's defense, she was a little rusty. Rusty _and_ freaked out.

"That's why he's not coming after us," said Bonnie. "He wants Simon. We go back to Simon's place and the Lich will know where he is."

She wasn't sure if the Lich could do that, but it made perfect sense. The Lich could have slaughtered them right there in that hallway. But he hadn't even tried, like he was holding back because he needed something from them. And he _did_ need something: the Enchiridion. So why not kill them? Why let them get away?

"And?" said Finn. "Why does the Lich care about our boy Simon?"

Bonnie shrugged.

"It might need Simon for something," she said. "Maybe something with the book? I don't know. But we can't go back there."

Marcy tapped her foot impatiently and folded her arms.

"So where do we go, Bonnibel?" she said.

Her face lit up.

"Actually, I have a place," said Marcy. "And I'm sure the Lich doesn't know about it."

She grabbed Bonnie's hands and held them, an enormous grin on her face. They weren't even out of danger and she was already back to her normal self. Bonnie was kind of relieved. Normal Marcy was growing on her.

"Ready for a sleepover, Bon-Bon?" said Marcy.

Bonnie sighed. She wasn't and that sounded horrible, but it was better than leading the Lich straight to Simon.

Finn had his phone out. He was frantically mashing the buttons, trying to send Simon a text. Simon wasn't going to believe what had just happened to them.

  
  


  
  


Marcy’s house wasn’t what Bonnie was expecting.

Expectation: creepy old mansion with decapitated garden gnomes out front. Reality: a cute little house outside of town. Small and cozy. There was even a patch of healthy grass out front, which lent itself to the ludicrous idea that Marcy was capable of basic lawn care. Even the basketball hoop nailed up around the side didn’t spoil the fairy tale. It was the kind of place Bonnie would have lived. Maybe she could have put up a pink awning or something?

Standing on the front porch, Bonnie hugged herself and looked back the way they came. The house was pretty much invisible from the road. If Marcy hadn’t guided them to it, Bonnie would have never even suspected its existence. She must have passed this place, what? A dozen times? There was no path or anything. Just a ton of trees blocking the house from view. The only giveaway? The house’s highest peak was _slightly _visible over the trees if someone was paying attention. Other than that, completely hidden.

Marcy shoved the door open with her foot. It wasn’t locked,which gave Bonnie an extremely brief twinge of anxiety. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, spending any amount of time in an unlocked house made Bonnie feel exposed. But on the other hand, who the heck was even going to find them?

“Home sweet home,” said Marcy.

Bonnie relaxed. The interior was even more cozy than the outside. Bonnie felt like she was walking into the middle of a garden catalog.

Finn immediately charged at the couch. He threw himself at it like it like he hadn’t sat down in weeks, flopping on the cushions. Bonnie wanted to say something about Finn’s shitty manners, but she understood why he was being more  _Finn _ than usual. This was a weird situation for everyone.

“Oh, _dip,” _said Finn.

He rolled over onto his back and grimaced.

“Aw man,” he said. “Your couch is bonk, Marcy.”

Marcy floated into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs.

“Sorry, man,” she said. “I don’t really, uh,_ sit.”_

She pulled a frying pan out of the cupboard and put it on the stove. Marcy had one of those old gas stoves, the kind that had been out of style for decades. She had to twist the knob a few times before it lit up. The place looked mostly modern, but Bonnie was surprised all the appliances actually worked.

Bonnie folded her arms.

“So whose place is this?” she said.

Marcy cracked an egg into the pan, humming a song Bonnie didn’t know.

Kara plopped down next to Finn. She squirmed, trying to get comfortable on the incredibly terrible sofa.

“Uh, what?” said Marcy.

Bonnie walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. The inside was practically a wasteland. Just the eggs, a carton of milk, and two cases of strawberries all crammed into the middle shelf. Bonnie had zero room to judge. Bonnie and Peter’s fridge was mostly leftovers from takeout runs and cold pizza. Bonnie once went an entire month eating nothing but instant noodles because Peter was too busy with work to do any food shopping.

“You heard me, ya donk,” said Bonnie. “Whose place is this?”

Marcy rolled her eyes, nudging the frying eggs with a spatula.

“Chill, Bonnibel,” she said. “This place was totally abandoned when I found it.”

Bonnie grabbed the carton of milk. She unscrewed the cap and took a sniff. Bonnie wrinkled her nose at the gross sour stench of milk that was way past its expiration date. Probably chunky and disgusting. Bonnie knew nothing about vampire diets, but she doubted milk chunks were on the vampire food pyramid.

“And where exactly did you live before?” said Bonnie.

She tossed the carton into the trash.

“Around,” said Marcy. “I’ve got places all over.”

She likely intended for that to sound all cool and worldly, but Bonnie wasn’t impressed. Bonnie wasn’t even surprised. She’d already pegged Marcy for an aimless drifter. The kind of person who never stayed in one place for more than a few weeks.

Marcy plopped the eggs onto a plate.

Finn and Kara came running like beasts to a feast. It occurred to Bonnie that eggs were pretty much the only thing any of them had eaten that day. Another thing Simon and Marcy seemed to have in common for some reason.

Bonnie leaned against the counter.

“What about your parents?” she said.

She didn’t want to be grilling Marcy like this, but she needed answers. Things were getting rough. If the Lich killed all of them before Bonnie got all of her answers, she was going to be pissed.

Marcy shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, my dad’s a big bad demon and my mom’s—my mom’s not around,” she said.

Finn stopped shoveling eggs into his mouth, his brow furrowed with confusion.

“Wait,” he said. “Your dad’s a demon? That’s—that’s totally banyangles.”

Bonnie opened her mouth to give her standard “Demons aren’t real, ya donk” reply, but she stopped herself. Could she really say demons weren’t real? _Could she? _After everything they’d seen? No. No she couldn’t. Bonnie’s thin shell of skepticism had finally cracked. After all, the Lich was a demon. Only something otherworldly could have struck such primal fear into Bonnie’s heart. And as a scientist, wasn’t she obligated to change her view in response to overwhelming evidence?

Finn frowned, like he suddenly remembered why they were all there.

“What’s gonna happen to Billy?” he said.

Marcy perched on the edge of the kitchen table. She could have sworn they’d covered this before. But of course Finn was holding out hope. People always seemed to do that when it came to this supernatural stuff. But this was beyond science and beyond medicine. Finn needed a reality check.

“Billy’s gone,” she said. “He’s the Lich now.”

Finn jumped out of his seat_. __No. _He couldn’t accept that. Not Billy. Finn always thought Billy would go out in a blaze of glory or something. Doing a sick back-flip into a pit of snakes or riding his motorcycle into a building full of demons with a bunch of explosives strapped to his back. Billy wasn’t the kind of guy who just _died. _He was the kind of guy who went out on his own terms, or at least Finn used to believe that.

“But Kara was…,” he started.

Marcy looked away.

“Possessed,” she said. “It’s different. Lich is just using Billy’s body. It’s bonzo, man, but there’s nothing we can do.”

Kara clenched her fist, her voice unusually calm.

“Of course we can do something,” she said. “We can kill the Lich. For Billy.”

They all looked at each other and nodded, a rare moment of complete cooperation. But as great as it felt to be on the exact same page, there were more pressing reasons to want the Lich dead. Starting with that mysterious book.

Bonnie opened the Enchiridion on the kitchen table. If they were truly going all the way, she had to assume there was some kind of magic spell or something in there. Some ritual that would turn the Lich to dust. Or maybe a defense in case the Lich tried to invade their heads? Anything they could use.

Unfortunately, there was no rhyme or reason to the layout. Half the pages were in some kind of ancient language Bonnie couldn’t translate with her phone. The chapters weren’t in a particular order and there was no glossary. From what Bonnie could understand, it seemed to be some kind of compendium of ancient esoteric knowledge. A collection of the arcane and the impossible with some moments of understandable science. There was also an entire chapter about how to kiss ladies for some reason. Bonnie lingered over that one because of how out of place it seemed.

“Oh dip,” said Finn.

_Oh dip _indeed. Bonnie thought getting her hands on the book would finally shine some light on all this crap. But in reality? Everything just made less sense in her head. She couldn’t put it together because there was still a huge piece missing. But _what _was that piece and _where _was that piece? What was in this book that the Lich wanted to get its grubby disgusting paws on? Bonnie doubted that thing was just a huge nerd with a fetish for ancient texts. Mostly because _she _was a giant nerd with a fetish for ancient texts and she refused to believe the Lich lurked the same forums she did.

Bonnie grimaced. Someone _died _for that book. The Lich was riding Billy’s body just to get his hands on it. Whatever happened next, Bonnie had to find out why this book was so important.

“You _have _to know something,” she said.

Marcy was sucking on a strawberry. She pulled it out of her mouth, laughed, and tossed the drained strawberry into the sink.

“Sorry, Bonnibel,” she said. “I’ve got nothing.”

She grabbed another strawberry and sank her fangs into it. She slurped for a few seconds before taking it out of her mouth. Marcy gestured with the half-drained strawberry like a pointer.

“We need Simon,” she said.

Finn spoke up before Bonnie could say anything.

“No way, dude!” he said. “You want Simon to get totes murdled? We can’t lead the Lich right to him. He’ll kill all of us.”

Kara flinched. Bonnie could tell what Kara was thinking: what the hell were they supposed to do? Eventually the Lich was going to find and probably kill all of them. It would be worse if Simon was included in that, but none of them were particularly eager for death-by-demon.

Finn shut the book and picked it up.

“We need to take this to the second brainiest person we know,” he said. “We’ve gotta know someone else with big nerd brain, right?”

Marcy snapped her fingers and pointed at Finn.

“I might know a guy,” she said.

Bonnie arched an eyebrow, instantly skeptical. She really didn’t trust anyone who was friends with a vampire, but why not give it a shot? One of Marcy’s buddies probably knew way more about this supernatural stuff than any of them.

At that exact moment, Marceline’s front door exploded open. It slammed against the wall hard enough to leave a crack.

Bonnie cried out and spun towards the sound, putting up her fists like a champion boxer.

Finn raised the book above his head like a makeshift club, ready to bash the intruder’s brains in with the surprisingly heavy ancient text.

Kara grabbed a chair from beside the kitchen table and brandished it like a battering ram.

Marcy hissed, her eyes narrowing to slits and her nostrils flaring as she went into spooky bat mode again.

A woman was standing in the doorway, her head dipped. She was slumped forward, practically hunch-backed from the weight of the backpack she was carrying. She was wearing a wide-brimmed yellow hat and a scarf around her neck. The woman slowly raised her head, revealing a pair of tired eyes with bags underneath.

Marcy’s face immediately returned to normal. She pressed both hands against her open mouth, her eyes burning with tears.

“Betty?” she said.

Betty managed to stand up straight. She spread her arms, her eyes widening.

“Oh my_ glob, _I need a drink!” she said.

Betty wobbled for a minute, her eyes fluttering like she was about to pass out. Before anyone could move towards her, she toppled forward and hit the floor. She lay there, her massive backpack lying on top of her like a tortoise shell. Betty let out a groan.

“Oh _crease,” _she said.

She repeated the word over and over again, lying flat on the floor like a wounded animal. Or a woman who’d literally traveled miles to be there while lugging an enormous backpack.


	9. Possession and Stuff

Kara pulled the backpack off Betty, Finn and Bonnie helped her up, and Marcy made some tea.  
  
“You okay?” said Kara.   
  
Betty was sitting at the kitchen table, her arms hanging limply at her sides and her shoulders slumped. Her mouth was slightly open and her head was drooped forward. If it hadn’t been for the flicker of life in Betty’s eyes, she could have passed as a corpse.   
  
“Teeeeaaaaaa,” Betty droned out.  
  
Marcy didn’t even know why she had tea. Simon must have left a canister of it the last time he was there.   
  
“What the crease, Betty?” said Marcy.   
  
Betty lifted her head and squinted. She looked like she’d walked for miles without a break.   
  
“Where’s Simon?” she said.  
  
Marcy’s shoulders stiffened. She didn’t say anything. She just stood in front of the stove with her back to Betty. Watching the water boil, her mouth set in a line. Bonnie was slightly caught off guard by Marcy’s behavior. Since when did Marceline the Vampire not have a snarky comeback?   
  
It was all about dynamics, Bonnie realized. Marcy’s dynamic with Bonnie was, well, totally infuriating. Marcy liked prodding, pushing buttons, being a massive pain in Bonnie’s ass. Finn got to see Marcy’s slightly more empathetic side topped off with an extra dose of snark. Kara and Marcy barely interacted, but they seemed to have a kind of mutual respect that Bonnie didn’t understand. Marcy was more careful with Simon, more sensitive to his emotions. Betty and Marcy’s dynamic was completely different from anything else Bonnie had seen so far. Fascinating.   
  
Betty folded her hands in her lap. She looked more alert now, but still tired.   
  
“I know you’re pissed,” she said.  
  
Marcy grabbed a cracked mug from the cupboard. She glanced over her shoulder, startling everyone with a flash of her bat-face and an animalistic growl.  
  
“Of course I’m pissed!” she said. “What the dip?”   
  
She poured the hot water into the mug, yanking the teapot around hard enough to cause several spills. She didn’t seem to notice the mess she was making. Not that Marcy would have cared. She was gearing up for the rant of a lifetime.   
  
“First you leave Simon,” she said. “And that’s just wow. Banana-bread-bonzo. Then you go totally dark and no-contact for years like some kind of--some kind of ding-dong _ghost_.”   
  
Betty sat up straight in her chair and folded her arms.   
  
“I didn’t ding-dong ditch Simon, Marceline,” she said. “Where do you think I’ve been, genius?”  
  
Marcy slammed the mug on the table. A bit of tea sloshed over the side, but Marcy didn’t notice. She was breathing heavily, her nostrils—narrow and rodent-like—flaring with every breath. She looked like she wanted to smash something. Smash someone.   
  
Bonnie took a step back. Holy Glob. Bonnie kept forgetting that Marcy wasn’t human. If Marcy wanted, she could have killed all of them without breaking a sweat. Bonnie remembered that moment at the pizza place. She remembered how Marcy had rescued them from Kara. Bonnie shuddered. The memory was suddenly a lot less soothing. Bonnie couldn’t imagine being Kara in that situation.  
  
“Good question,” said Marcy. “Where have you been, you big nerd?”   
  
Betty leaned back in her chair. If she was intimidated by Marcy’s anger, she wasn’t showing it. Maybe she was confident that Marcy would never rip her to shreds.  
  
“Traveling,” said Betty. “Trying to find what I need to help Simon.”   
  
Marcy’s face softened, but only a little.   
  
“You left him,” she said.  
  
Betty pulled the mug towards her. Looking at Betty’s face, Bonnie realized that Simon wasn’t that old. It really must have been the crown messing with his physical appearance. Because Betty couldn’t have been older than mid-forties.   
  
“I had to help him,” said Betty.   
  
Marcy let out a humorless laugh.  
  
“No, you were scared,” she said. “Scared of what was happening to him.”   
  
Betty nodded slowly. She definitely looked her age, but her face had a lot more stress lines than Bonnie would have expected. Betty hadn’t suffered the crown’s effects. This was just a physical manifestation of what she’d been through. Bonnie had zero doubt that Betty had been through hell on Simon’s behalf.  
  
“Yeah, I was scared,” said Betty. “But I wanted to find out more. I needed to know there was a cure.”   
  
She pointed at her gigantic backpack.  
  
Kara lugged the backpack across the room and plopped it down on the kitchen table. Bonnie was afraid the table might collapse from the weight, but nothing happened.  
  
Betty unzipped her backpack. The second it was open, dozens of items tumbled out. They slid off the table and tumbled to the floor. Most of it was basic supplies—food and water—but there were also a few interesting bulky items. Bonnie couldn’t even begin to imagine how Betty had carried all that stuff by herself. Nerds like Bonnie and Betty weren’t exactly well-known for their physical strength.  
  
“What the stuff is this biz?” said Finn.   
  
He bent over and picked up one of the hard drives. Finn turned it over in his hands. It somehow looked both incredibly fragile and ridiculously resilient.  
  
“Careful with that,” said Betty.  
  
She snatched the drive out of Finn’s hands and placed it on the table. Kind of ironic that she was pissed at Finn, given that the thing had been rattling around in her backpack for several days. Betty was surprised it was still intact.  
  
“This is a complete archive of everything I’ve found,” said Betty. “This baby has everything we need probably.”   
  
Betty tapped the hard drive with her finger.  
  
“The crown used to belong to some guy named Gunther,” she said. “He was an apprentice to some guy who called himself a wizard.”  
  
Bonnie snorted.   
  
“Wizards aren’t real, ya donk,” said Bonnie.  
  
She didn’t want to sound like an asshole, but Bonnie had to draw the line somewhere. If she just left herself open to everything, where would it end? Goblins? Poltergeists? Fairies? If Bonnie started believing in everything, she would be forced to abandon the entire concept of science.  
  
Betty adjusted her glasses, giving Bonnie her best professor-stare.  
  
“Called himself a wizard,” said Betty. “_Called himself_. This was a long time ago. He could have been a scientist who liked playing with chemicals. To the untrained mind, anything can be mistaken for magic.”   
  
She crossed her arms.  
  
“But the crown is very real,” said Betty. “The records are contradictory and incomplete, but I believe this Gunther person did something to the crown to make it like this. It’s a curse. The crown has been hella cursed since it was first made.”   
  
Marcy sat down across from Betty. To Bonnie’s surprise, Marcy actually sat down in the chair like a normal non-vampire person. She didn’t float or do any weird tricks. This was the strangest day Bonnie had had in a very long time.   
  
“So what do we do about Simon?” said Marcy.   
  
Betty tapped the hard drive.  
  
“I was hoping he could help,” she said. “With my research and his big brain and my big brain, I think we can crack this biz.”   
  
Finn nervously rubbed the back of his neck.  
  
“Um, Simon’s kind of helping us with _our_ biz,” he said.   
  
Betty turned her head to look at him, draping her arm over the back of her chair.  
  
“Your Lich biz?” she said.   
  
Kara crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.   
  
“How do you know about that?” said Kara.   
  
Betty sighed.   
  
“You’re not the only ones who know about the Lich,” she said. “That son of a blee-blop keeps popping up in my research. I don’t think he has anything to do with the crown. At least not _here_.”   
  
Bonnie stared at Betty. They were both scientists. They both took a sacred oath of skepticism. How did Betty cope with knowing all of that was real? Bonnie was barely holding it together, but Betty seemed so casual about all this supernatural crap. How had Betty readjusted? Maybe because Betty—unlike Bonnie—automatically had a good reason to readjust her world view?  
  
Bonnie glanced at Marcy. No, that wasn’t really true. They both had something—_someone_\--who forced that change in perspective.   
  
“What do you mean “here”?” said Kara.   
  
Betty let out a long tired sigh.  
  
“So you don’t know why The Lich wants the book, huh?” said Betty.   
  
She got a series of head-shakes in reply. Of course none of them knew. It had been less than three days since all this started. Hardly enough time to gather their wits, let alone figure out what the hell was going on in the mind of the Lich.  
  
Betty leaned back in her chair.  
  
“It’s complicated,” said Betty. “You’ll need to see my research. Otherwise you’re not gonna believe me. Fair enough.”  
  
Bonnie was surprised. What could be so bizarre that Betty thought they wouldn’t buy it? Something more insane than vampires, demonic possession, or cursed crowns? That didn’t seem likely, but Bonnie trusted Betty’s judgment. Plus Bonnie really really really wanted to see what was on that hard drive.   
  
“We can’t go back to Simon’s,” said Marcy. “The Lich is on our asses.”  
  
Betty started stuffing things back into her backpack. She left the hard drive on the table.  
  
“I have a friend and that friend has some things I could use,” she said. “We don’t have to go back to Simon’s. Not yet. I just need a computer.”  
  
Finn dug his battered old laptop out of his bag. That laptop was old even before Jake gave it to Finn as a hand-me-down. Finn was shocked that it still worked. It was barely chugging along by this point, but it got the job done.  
  
Betty frowned, but she took the laptop from Finn. It wasn’t ideal. Better than nothing, but not ideal.   
  
“I need forty minutes,” she said.  
  
It actually took her two hours.  


* * *

  
  
When Betty had everything set up, everyone gathered around the laptop so Betty could explain herself. It was a wild ride.  
  
“So there are these gems, right?” said Betty.   
  
She pointed at an illustration on the screen. It must have been hand-drawn by a five-year-old, but it got the message across. It was a bunch of gemstones, each of them labeled in precise cursive that only Bonnie, Kara, and Betty could actually read. Finn and Marcy got the gist of it.  
  
“And each one of them is banana-bread powerful,” said Betty. “Like supes powerful. But they need a power source. Like a—like a battery.”   
  
Bonnie frowned at the picture Betty was showing them. It was a crude sketch of the Enchiridion with a bunch of holes in it. Each hole was labeled with the name of one of the gemstones.   
  
“And that’s the battery?” said Bonnie. “How?”   
  
Betty brought up some scans of her old notebook and more rough sketches. Over half of the stuff she’d found wasn’t even usable. There was way too much supernatural crap going on in the world and only five percent of it was connected to Simon. So Betty had spent those long years combing through archives, studying the arcane principals of “magic”, and basically nerding out more than she ever had in her whole entire life. This was a brand new field of research. Legendary. If only Betty could have brought this into the wider scientific community.   
  
“From what I’ve seen, I’m pretty sure the Enchiridion exists in every possible universe,” Betty said. “And in every possible universe, it works like a battery. You plug the gems in and you can open a portal to, well, anywhere. And you can bring things back and forth.”   
  
Finn clapped a hand to his cheek and inhaled sharply.   
  
“Oh crease!” said Finn. “That Lich guy’s gonna bring bad peeps into our universe?”   
  
Betty showed them some more sketches of the Enchiridion. She actually had a glossary of the book’s contents and some “alternate pages”--whatever that meant—she found while investigating every single obscure library she could access. Betty had to break at least seven different laws in thousands of places to get her hands on a lot of that forbidden knowledge. She was still banned from that isolated mountain village in Tibet.   
  
“Probably,” Betty said. “My money’s on blood beasts. Have you ever seen a blood beast? Freaking terrifying.”   
  
She pulled up a picture of a “blood beast”. It was indeed the most terrifying thing any of them had ever seen.   
  
Bonnie was shaking, but not just from the picture.   
  
“So how do we stop him?” said Bonnie. “The Lich? How do we roast his nuts? Any ideas?”   
  
Betty shrugged. She had tons of pictures, scans, and all sorts of cool stuff on that hard drive. Graffiti from an ancient temple, ancient cave paintings, some cryptic diaries, records dating all the way back to before book-binding was even a thing. The Enchiridion was one of the oldest artifacts in existence, second only to the Lich himself.   
  
“No idea,” Betty said. “Have you seen this peep? He’s literally a being of pure death and chaos. He’ll mess us all up if we try to actually do something.”   
  
She brought up a picture of Simon’s crown. Betty pointed at the screen, indicating the red gem in the center.   
  
“All he needs is that baby right there,” said Betty. “The last gem. So he can toast our bread.”   
  
Finn raised both of his hands.   
  
“Whoa, dude,” said Finn. “No one’s bread is getting toasted.”   
  
He pointed at Betty.   
  
“You came back because you thought you could fix this,” said Finn. “There has to be something in that nerd brain.”   
  
Betty tapped the side of her head, like she thought she could stimulate her own brain waves.   
  
“The Lich is a shadow,” said Betty. “Years of research and all I could find was references to him existing “before there was anything”.”   
  
Finn slammed his fists on the table. The laptop jumped at the impact, but Betty didn’t even flinch.  
  
“So we just roll over?” said Finn. “No dipping way!”  
  
Marcy grabbed Finn’s shoulder and pulled him away from the table.  
  
“Chill out, my dude,” said Marcy. “We’ll find a way. We have to.”  
  
She turned to Bonnie, her brow furrowed. Marcy was actually thinking for once. She was using her brain to come up with a plan instead of jumping into it. Maybe Bonnie was finally rubbing off on her?  
  
“We need a priest,” said Marcy. “Who knows more about demons than a priest?”   
  
Betty shut Finn’s laptop, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.  
  
“No dice, Marcy,” said Betty. “I’ve talked to, like, thirty priests. They either think I’m nutso or I’m the one possessed. Rude.”  
  
Marcy was pulling out her phone. Bonnie didn’t even know Marcy had a phone, because why would a vampire need a phone? But Marcy was dialing on it like this was the most normal thing in the world. It was one of those old flip phones, like the one Simon had. Judging by the design, it was even older than the one Simon had. It looked like Marcy had found it in a trash heap.  
  
“My guy’s not a normal priest,” said Marcy.   
  
She put the phone to her ear and waited. If she’d had a heart, it would have been pounding like a war drum. Time to cash in that favor. Marcy just hoped they were actually going to get somewhere.  


* * *

  
  
Rain tapped the apartment door with her fist. She called Jake’s name and paused. No response. But she knew Jake was home, because he was home most of the time.   
  
She pulled out her spare key and jammed it into the lock. Rain really hated doing this. She knew Jake gave her that key and everything, but she still felt kind of weird about going in there if he actually wasn’t home. Jake kept rejecting the idea of sharing a home. Rain was mostly okay with that because she knew Jake needed his space and Finn needed a good father figure.  
  
She pushed open the door and went inside, slipping the key back into her pocket. The apartment was dark. Jake and Finn must have gone out somewhere.   
  
Rain started unbuttoning her coat. Awesome. She could wait. Rain didn’t want to bike all the way back to her apartment. It was way too cold out there. Rain didn’t understand how anyone was wearing shorts in this weather.  
  
She tossed her coat over the back of the couch. Rain doubled over and hugged herself, a violent shudder skittering through her body. Crap. Why was it so cold in the apartment? Had Jake forgotten to turn on the heat? That sounded like something Jake would do. His natural body temperature sometimes made him forget that the whole concept of “cold” didn’t only exist in movies.   
  
Another reason they needed to move in together, Rain thought. Well, one reason among many.   
  
She yelled Jake’s name again. If he was home—but taking one of his afternoon naps—Rain had a dozen things to talk to him about. Her tarot cards had told her something interesting. It was probably nothing, but this entire week had been unusually off. There was some bad energy going around.  
  
Rain grabbed the side of her head and let out a small groan. Holy shit. Speaking of “bad energy”, what the hell was she feeling right now? It was like this pressure in her skull. And her stomach was fluttering like she was about to puke. What the heck?   
  
Rain pulled a small crystal out of her pocket. She moved deeper into the apartment and shouted Jake’s name, the crystal clutched in her hand. The panic was setting in. And Rain knew she had no reason to panic, because none of this was abnormal. So why did she feel like something was off?   
  
The crystal wasn’t helping. Whatever bad energy was floating around that apartment, it was too powerful and oppressive for one crystal. Rain wished she’d brought her entire menagerie. She had tons of amulets that didn’t get a lot of everyday use.  
  
She reached to flick on the lights. But even with the apartment fully lit up, Rain couldn’t quench the throbbing fear in her chest. She wanted to leave, drive back to her place, and grab every crystal and amulet she had. But she also didn’t want to leave Jake or Finn. And Rain was sure that both or either of them were in the worst trouble of their lives.  
  
The bathroom door was halfway closed. Rain crossed the room and opened it. The bathroom could barely fit one person, so she didn’t expect anyone to be in there. But she felt compelled to look, just like she felt compelled to stay in the apartment. Rain could have called it a “hunch” or a “feeling”, but it wasn’t either of those things. She squeezed the crystal tighter, resisting the urge to shut her eyes when she walked into the bathroom.   
  
Jake was lying on the floor. He was curled up in a ball like he was in pain, but he wasn’t making any noise. His chest was moving. Jake was alive, but he was breathing slow, quiet, shallow breaths. It was almost like he was intentionally trying to be quiet, which was the opposite of everything Rain knew about Jake.  
  
She wanted to rush over to him, but something made her stay back. Rain stood in the doorway, staring at Jake’s barely-moving form and not saying anything. She thought he might not notice her if she didn’t draw attention to herself. She still had the crystal in her hand. Rain was already mouthing words, charging the crystal with intent as she held it.  
  
Jake hoisted himself up on shaky arms and legs. He stood on all fours with his back to Rain, his head dipped. He looked so animalistic that Rain almost thought—for a split second—that she was staring at an enormous wolf instead of a person.  
  
Jake twisted his head around at an unnatural angle to look at her. His face was pale and sweaty, his eyes wide and filled with the maximum amount of terror. Jake’s limbs were weirdly stiff when he moved, like he wasn’t really in control of anything other than his head. Jake choked out some words, his throat drier than sandpaper.  
  
“What the crease?” said Jake.  
  
He opened his mouth wider and spoke in a deep voice that sounded nothing like his own.  
  
_“You are mine, child,”_ he said.  
  
Jake let out one shaky breath and fell back, collapsing onto the floor like a rag doll. His legs were splayed out at strange angles and his arms were pointing straight in either direction. His eyes were open, but there was barely any life in them. Jake wasn’t moving. Even his chest was suddenly very still.   
  
Rain finally let out the breath she’d been holding for a while. She opened her palm, letting the crystal tumble out and hit the bathroom floor. Rain felt the intent vanish. But it didn’t matter. Jake was going to need something a little stronger than garden variety witchcraft.


	10. Missions and Stuff

Of all the places Bonnie expected Marcy to take her, a bar didn’t even crack her Top Ten.  
  
Could vampires even get drunk? That was the last question Bonnie expected to be asking herself, but there it was. She was actually pondering if it was possible for a vampire to get wasted. What the hell had her life turned into?   
  
Not to mention that all of them—minus Kara—weren’t old enough to drink. It took thirty minutes for Bonnie to convince Finn and Kara to stay with Betty. Bonnie was pretty sure bringing a seventeen-year-old boy into a bar was considered “crappy parenting”. But then again, she wasn’t Finn’s parent, so maybe she got a pass? Bonnie didn’t even know. Parenting had always been kind of a confusing concept for her. Her aunt and uncle hadn’t really done a lot of that.  
  
“Marceline, what the dip are we doing here?” said Bonnie.   
  
She shoved her hands into her pockets and lowered her head. Finn had been overly enthusiastic about the disguises, but Bonnie wasn’t sure they should even bother. The Lich could probably sense them or something. But if it made Finn feel better, Bonnie could at least fake playing along. She just didn’t like wearing Marcy’s clothes.  
  
Bonnie was wearing a thick yellow parka and she had her hair pulled back into a ponytail. The sunglasses were totally out of place, but they completed Bonnie’s bizarre outfit. Her chance of being recognized had decreased by at least eighty-percent. Unfortunately, Bonnie didn’t have time to be strategic about it. She’d basically just grabbed the first clothes she saw before Marcy practically dragged her out of the house.  
  
Marcy looked decidedly less ridiculous. She was wearing a dark wide-brimmed hat, a red cocktail dress, and a leather jacket. She almost looked like a model.  
  
Bonnie tried not to stare. Actually, scratch that. Marcy did look like a model. Beautiful and elegant. Truth really was stranger than fiction.   
  
Marcy caught Bonnie looking at her and winked.  
  
Bonnie folded her arms and tore her gaze away, her cheeks turning red.   
  
“Answer my question,” said Bonnie.  
  
Marcy pointed at the man standing behind the bar. Bonnie didn’t recognize the guy. He had curly hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a dark pink shirt and blue pants.   
  
Bonnie squinted in disbelief.  
  
“That’s your guy?” said Bonnie. “The priest?”   
  
Marcy grabbed Bonnie’s shoulder and started guiding her through the crowd.   
  
“Only twice a week,” said Marcy. “The rest of the time, he makes the best donking cocktails in the world.”  
  
Bonnie thought for a minute, reflecting on classic vampire lore. She’d never considered applying scientific principles to stuff she mostly got from classic novels and comic books, but that was another thing she had to get used to.   
  
“Doesn’t church hurt?” Bonnie said. “Don’t vampires burn if they go inside?”  
  
Marcy rolled her eyes, her hand fastened around Bonnie’s wrist like a vice.   
  
“That’s demons, Bonnie,” Marcy said. “Most of them. Where do you think I go to hide from my dad?”   
  
Bonnie had to roll that around her head for a few minutes. Not the whole “vampires don’t burn thing”. Because, well, obviously. That was basically Vampires 101. Bonnie was surprised she forgot about that. But this was the second—or third—time Marcy had mentioned her dad was a demon. And now Bonnie was trying to wrap her brain around that brand new weirdness. How the fuck did that even work? Bonnie wasn’t an expert on vampire lore, but she was pretty donking sure that demons having vampire kids wasn’t part of it.   
  
“Wait, how’s your dad a demon?” Bonnie said.  
  
But it was too late. They were already at the bar and Marcy was parking herself on a stool.  
  
Bonnie sat down next to her, smoothing her parka and examining the area. First rule of stealth: always know your exits. She wouldn’t let herself relax until she saw that big red neon Exit sign. It was decently crowded in there. If they actually had to bail, they could probably lose the Lich in a crowd.   
  
The bartender approached them. He had a huge smile on his face that didn’t go away when he noticed who he was dealing with.  
  
“Hey Marcy!” he said. “What’s up? Did you get my pickles? And my selfies-ies?”  
  
Marcy tapped her fingers against the bar and rolled her eyes.  
  
“Yeah, man, sure,” she said. “That’s not why I’m here.”  
  
She leaned forward and lowered her voice.   
  
“Okay,” Marcy said. “This shit’s super bongo-bananas and we need your help. You game?”  
  
The man chewed his bottom lip for a second.  
  
“Is this, uh, church biz?” he said. “Because the GF only wants me to do church biz. You know how it is.”  
  
Marcy hesitated. Probably trying to figure out how badly she’d have to fudge the truth. Honestly? This required the minimum amount of fudging. Demons were totally church biz, right? Maybe not local church biz, but church biz.   
  
“I know you want in on this, dude,” Marcy said. “I came to you, Pris.”   
  
Pris shook his head a little.  
  
“It’s just—we’ve been having some real bad probs lately,” said Pris. “I don’t wanna do anything to, ya know, get her cheesed off. She is not happy that I’m still doing this bartender thing.”   
  
Marcy reached into her bag and pulled out a folded something. Right before she slid it across the bar, Bonnie realized it was a photograph. An old grainy photo that had been taken with a Polaroid camera.  
  
“This is serious biz, man,” Marcy said.  
  
Pris glanced at the photo for half a second, one eyebrow quirked. He took a tiny step backwards and sucked in a sharp breath, like someone had jabbed a needle into his side. He snatched the photo off the bar and shoved it into his pocket. Bonnie could see beads of sweat on his forehead.   
  
“What the crease, Marceline?” said Pris.   
  
He looked around, like he was freaking out over the idea that someone might have seen the picture. But everyone was either chatting or three sheets to the wind. No one gave a single solitary crap about the two girls sitting at the bar.   
  
Bonnie was actually shocked that her and Marcy hadn’t attracted more attention. Bonnie thought she looked pretty forgettable, but Marcy was another story. She estimated that Marcy’s outfit and hair had satisfied approximately five out of seven of the prerequisites for lust in sentient beings capable of sexual attraction. But that was just science. And, yeah, a little bit of Bonnie’s own personal totally-not-scientific opinion.   
  
“So are you gonna help us?” said Marcy.   
  
Pris looked at her like he thought she was legitimately out of her mind. Finally someone understood how Bonnie felt.  
  
“Do you want me to, like, die?” said Pris.   
  
Marcy rolled her eyes.   
  
“I’m cashing in a favor,” she said. “Chill out, dude. We talked about this on the phone.”   
  
Pris shook his head at her.  
  
“Uh, no, we talked about you needing my help,” he said. “I thought you wanted, like, a recipe or something.”   
  
He shuddered, haunted by the memory of whatever he saw in that Polaroid.  
  
“Look, guys, this isn’t my scene anymore,” Pris said. “Why not talk to Cosmo? Cosmo’s cool.”  
  
Marcy lightly tapped her fist on the bar.  
  
“Because Cosmo’s doing mountain things in the mountains with his flock,” said Marcy. “He’s not taking any calls.”   
  
Pris sucked in a deep breath. He pulled the rag off his shoulder and started swabbing the bar with it, chewing on his lip. He watched his arm go in circles over the same spot, mopping up a stain that wasn’t there. Bonnie wasn’t a total expert on human behavior—only ninety-five percent—but she could sense him cracking like a walnut.  
  
“Okay, okay,” Pris said. “You got me. But nothing dangerous, right? Trust me, my GF will know.”   
  
Marcy leaned forward across the bar and groaned.  
  
“Finally,” she said. “And yeah, sure. Nothing dangerous. We just need some books.”   
  
Bonnie instantly perked up.   
  
“Books?” said Bonnie.  
  
Marcy straightened up and nudged Bonnie, a massive grin on her face.  
  
“Yeah, old books,” said Marcy.   
  
Bonnie knew she’d spent the last few days reading—and also being in grave danger, but the reading was what stuck out to her the most—but the idea of getting her hands on more books almost made her entire body tingle with happiness. One thing the supernatural and science had in common: people who studied it loved keeping extensive records. And Bonnie loved pawing through those extensive records. It was a win-win for everyone involved.   
  
Marcy patted Bonnie’s shoulder, her grin widening.   
  
“Keep it in your pants, Bonnibel,” said Marcy.  
  
Bonnie realized she’d been grinning like a lunatic and practically drooling. Not just books, but old church books. Probably older than anyone alive. And filled with forbidden knowledge. What more could anyone ask for? Except unlimited private reading time.   


* * *

  
  
Finn’s phone rang three times before he picked it up. He’d basically resolved himself to sitting on Marcy’s uncomfortable couch and doing jack-shit until Marcy and Bonnie came back. It wasn’t like he could go for a walk or anything like that.   
  
On the third ring, Finn lunged forward and snatched his phone off the coffee table. He tumbled halfway off the couch in his hurry, nearly falling and slamming his head against the table. That would have been a less-than-good outcome for that feat of gymnastics.   
  
It had to be Marcy and Bonnie, right? They were calling to change their minds about him tagging along. Sure, they’d already been gone for an hour. But that didn’t mean anything. Maybe they had some super important thing that only Finn could help with. Something that involved punching or scaling a really high wall.   
  
Finn picked up the phone, his heart hammering at record-breaking speed.  
  
“Guys?” he said.  
  
Kara came into the living room. There wasn’t a lot to do in Marcy’s house. There was a bedroom, but Marcy had stressed that _under no circumstances_ was anyone to go in there. That left the bathroom.   
  
Betty was asleep at the kitchen table, a half-drunk cup of tea in front of her. Kara and Finn assumed Betty was going to do more research while Marcy and Bonnie were gone, but instead Betty just crashed. Good for her. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days.   
  
Finn held the phone with both hands, frowning. At first he thought Bonnie—or whoever—had butt-dialed him. He couldn’t hear anything or anyone on the other end. But just as he was about to hang up, Finn heard what sounded like someone sobbing. It was far away, but it was definitely there.   
  
“Rain?” Finn said.   
  
The sobbing got louder, like the person had moved closer to the phone. There was shuffling and what sounded like something being dragged. And then finally someone spoke, so loud that it almost made Finn drop the phone.  
  
“Finn,” said Rain.   
  
She sounded almost hysterical. A huge gaping pit opened in Finn’s stomach at the sound of her voice.   
  
“Oh donk,” said Finn. “What’s up? Are you okay?”  
  
Rain took an entire minute to answer.   
  
“Jake,” Rain managed. “Oh my _Glob_. Jake.”   
  
The pit in Finn’s stomach widened. Throughout this entire thing, he hadn’t really thought about Jake. Well, mostly. He’d thought about Jake in passing a few times, the same way he thought about Jake most of the time. Now Finn realized he was a total idiot. He should have been thinking about Jake nonstop from the moment he found Billy’s body.   
  
“What’s—what happened to Jake?” Finn said.   
  
He was scared shitless of the answer, but he braced himself. Finn thought he was well-equipped to handle any fuckery this week threw at him: demons, vampires, possession, Billy. But Finn wasn’t even slightly prepared for this level of terrible.  
  
Rain took another two minutes to choke out the answer. She must have been sobbing even harder before she managed to call Finn.  
  
“He’s—he was—oh _Grod_, Finn,” Rain said. “I thought I could help him. He was suffering and—and something had him. Something bad. So I—I tried to do something. But he’s just—he just—oh _Glob_.”   
  
She sucked in a shaking breath.  
  
“I don’t know where he is,” said Rain.  
  
Finn could feel his eyes burning with tears. He didn’t want to cry. This wasn’t really the time to start sobbing his eyes out. But Finn had to let it out. If he didn’t cry, he was probably going to scream until his lungs exploded. What could Bonnie have said? _ “An acute stress response, very natural, blah blah blah science blah blah...” _  
  
Finn tried to force a smile through his tears, but that only made him cry harder.  
  
“I’ll be right there,” he said.  
  
Finn hung up before he could think about what he was doing or what he’d just promised. Finn didn’t want to just leave Rain like that, but he also didn’t want her to hear him sobbing. That wouldn’t have been good for either of them. And right now, Finn needed to unravel his brain.  
  
Through tears, he told Kara everything. Sure, they didn’t know it was the Lich. This could have been an unrelated incident. Just super bad timing. But Finn shelved that argument as soon as it came out of his mouth. He couldn’t even fall for his own logic. And as the minutes passed, Finn just kept seeing Billy’s face in his head. Billy’s lifeless eyes shining with the Lich’s influence, the skin literally rotting off Billy’s face as the Lich piloted his body.   
  
Kara grabbed both of Finn’s shoulders.  
  
“You can’t go,” she said.  
  
Finn tried to shake Kara’s grip, but of course that was impossible. Kara was one hundred percent capable of keeping him there through sheer force. And to make things ten times worse, he knew she was totally right: he couldn’t go. Finn promised Bonnie and Marcy that he’d stay there. He knew it was dangerous out there, that he’d probably die or worse if he went outside.  
  
“I can’t just let Jake get donked up,” said Finn.   
  
He tried—and failed—to shake Kara’s grip again.  
  
“Look, it was only super-mega dangerous because we didn’t know where or who the Lich was messing up,” said Finn. “Right? But now we know he’s all up in Jake’s head, so he can’t catch us unawares and bake our beans.”   
  
He ignored the one thought jumping around his head: _ Jake is dead. Jake is dead. Jake is dead. The Lich got him. The Lich got him. He’s dead. _  
  
Kara bit her lip. _Oh dip. _Finn was making a lot of sense. If they knew exactly who the Lich was piloting, where was the danger? Of course, this whole thing was one hundred percent a trap. But was it a trap if they knew it was a trap?   
  
“We have to prepare,” Kara said.  
  
Finn was relieved when Kara let go of his shoulder.  
  
“Awesome,” said Finn. “Um, how?”  
  
Kara went into the kitchen and pointed at Finn’s laptop.  
  
“Anti-demon research,” she said. “Holy water and stuff.”  
  
Finn smiled. Bonnie would have been so proud of them. They were actually thinking this through. Making plans, pacing themselves. The Bonnibel Method.  
  
“What about her?” said Finn.   
  
He gestured towards Betty. The last thing he wanted was to wake her up. Betty definitely wasn’t ready for some super-dangerous demon-fueled adventure. She was better off spending a few hours in downtime. Finn knew the feeling. He’d worked long shifts before.  
  
Kara glanced at Betty’s sleeping body and shrugged.  
  
“She’ll be fine,” said Kara. “No one knows about this place and the Lich isn’t after her, I think.”   
  
Finn didn’t like the uncertainty in Kara’s voice, but it wasn’t like either of them had a choice. Kara wasn’t letting Finn leave the house by himself and there was no way Finn was staying there while Jake was in danger. Could they have waited until Marcy and Bonnie got back? Totally. Did Finn want to get into an hour-long argument with Bonnie about morality and _logic and blah blah blah psychology_? Of course not.   
  
Finn looked up how to holify water. While he was reading a very long and detailed tutorial, Kara started searching the house—including Marcy’s forbidden bedroom—for supplies.  
  
Kara could already feel the guilt bubbling in her chest. Bonnie and Marcy were going to be pissed. But if they ended up saving Jake, it was worth it. Jake was always worth it.


	11. Plans and Stuff

Peter was sitting in a cafe, a steaming peppermint latte in front of him.  
  
He was on his phone, trying again to get in contact with Bonnie. Seriously, where the hell was she? Bonnie never ignored his texts. Mostly because he was pretty much the only person who texted her.   
  
Peter chewed his bottom lip. _ Oh Glob_. Bonnie was a smart woman. She could take care of herself, right? So why was Peter getting antsy over a few unanswered texts? He wanted to believe it was just the vampire thing freaking him out, but it was deeper than that. Peter had this pit in his stomach that just wouldn’t go away.   
  
He looked around. This was one of Bonnie’s favorite hangouts. Tea, coffee, and scones. Perfect combo for a rainy day. Bonnie had zero clue that Peter went there by himself. No special reason. Peter just really liked the coffee.   
  
Daniel brought Peter a fresh plate of scones. Daniel had his hair pulled back into a messy bun with a rainbow-colored scrunchy. It wasn’t a bad look for him. Better than the iconic bandanna he usually wore during working hours.   
  
“Something up?” said Daniel.   
  
Peter reluctantly flipped his phone over and placed it on the table.   
  
“Can I give you some hot biz, Danny?” said Peter.  
  
Daniel looked over his shoulder. The cafe was mostly empty. There were two teens, a couple of retirees, and a sad-looking girl with poofy hair hunched over her mocha at a corner table.   
  
“I-I guess?” said Daniel.  
  
Peter hesitated. He’d known Daniel for years and mostly by accident. Did Daniel even know that Peter and him were in some of the same online social groups? Or was Peter the only one who’d figured it out due to Daniel’s obvious—and overused—screen name? “AbraDaniel”? Really? It was literally just Daniel’s last name in front of his first with one letter changed.   
  
“There’s a vampire in town,” said Peter.   
  
Daniel’s eyes widened. He leaned forward and grabbed the edge of the table with both hands.   
  
“Wowzers,” he said. “For reals? _For reals_ for reals?”   
  
Peter nodded. He already regretted opening his big dumb mouth, but he felt like Daniel should know. It was part of Peter’s unspoken moral code.   
  
“Her name’s Marceline,” said Peter. “Ring any bells?”   
  
Daniel furrowed his brow. He didn’t really keep up with that stuff like he was supposed to. He had a lot going on in his life: working at the cafe, theater classes, his dragging career as a magician.   
  
“Hunson Abadeer?” said Daniel.   
  
Peter frowned and gave another slow nod. He was surprised when he found out. But it made a twisted kind of sense. Peter had been sensing something weird in the air for a while. He thought it was just the usual vampire stink, but the vibe was a little off.   
  
“Wow, that’s banyangles,” said Daniel. “What are you gonna do?”   
  
Peter shook his head.  
  
“I don’t know, man,” he said.  
  
Daniel would have loved to continue the conversation, but the sad girl with the poofy hair was trying to get his attention. Daniel rushed to take care of her. The cafe was more understaffed than normal. Thank Grod it was so early in the day.  
  
Peter drank half of his coffee, nibbled on a scone for five seconds, and decided he wasn’t really hungry or thirsty. He left quickly, leaving a hefty tip for Daniel. Peter wanted to be in the mood for coffee and scones, but he just wasn’t feeling it today.  
  
He made sure to grab his backpack on the way out. It was heavy. If Peter had to guess, it was probably all the vampire-hunting gear. At least he could keep the knives—the blades infused with holy water—clipped to his belt and hidden under his shirt. The stakes were a lot harder to conceal, so Peter just stuffed them—and everything else—into one of his old backpacks. Better safe than dead.  
  
The street outside was deserted. Peter walked for a few feet, checking his phone again. Still no replies from Bonnie. Where the hell was she? Was her phone turned off?  
  
Peter wasn’t looking where he was going. He nearly barreled into someone walking in the opposite direction. Peter stopped at the last second, jerking his head up and muttering an apology. In Peter’s defense, he probably wouldn’t have seen them even if he hadn’t been glued to his phone. It was really foggy out, so foggy that Peter could barely see three feet in front of him. That explained the lack of foot traffic or cars.  
  
Peter squinted, slipping his phone into his pocket. The person standing in front of him hadn’t been walking, he realized. They were just standing there like they were frozen, standing there deliberately like they saw Peter coming and wanted to get in his way. And now Peter was staring directly into the person’s familiar face.   
  
“Jake?” he said.  
  
The second the name left Peter’s mouth, his blood froze. No. The hair was right and the clothes were familiar. But the eyes? The eyes were glowing a faint green. Jake’s nose was bleeding and his face was unnaturally pale.   
  
“Peter,” said the thing.   
  
The voice was raspy, deep, and harsh. It sounded nothing like Jake.   
  
Peter instinctively clutched at the cross around his neck, but of course he wasn’t wearing one. Peter wasn’t even sure a cross would have protected him. Those stories about crosses and sacred ground repelling demons were mostly folktales. But it still would have been nice to have one.   
  
“Lich,” said Peter.   
  
Lich-Jake smiled at him.   
  
“Good evening, Peter,” said Lich-Jake.  
  
Peter didn’t say anything. He was mentally calculating how long it had been since this happened. The Lich couldn’t have been inside Jake for too long. Jake’s body hadn’t yet started to decay from prolonged occupation.   
  
He slid his hand across his chest, gently nudging his fingers under his coat. Peter didn’t take his eyes off Lich-Jake as he moved.   
  
“I’m sure we can come to some kind of, um, arrangement?” he said. “How about this?”  
  
Peter tried to smile.   
  
“You get out of my friend and I don’t banish you to the dark realm from whence you came, demon,” said Peter. “Deal?”   
  
Lich-Jake laughed. He was shorter than Peter in this form, shorter and way less intimidating. But Peter wasn’t dumb enough to let his guard down. There had to be a reason the Lich decided to pilot Jake. And Peter probably wasn’t going to like it.  
  
“Do you even know?” said Lich-Jake. “Do you even know where I come from, Peter?”   
  
He reached forward and touched Peter’s forehead. Peter felt a wave of pure ice skitter through his body. The sensation was so unfamiliar and unpleasant that Peter froze in place, his hand halfway under his jacket and his teeth clenched. It didn’t feel like a sudden drop in temperature. It felt like the cold was coming from inside his body, like something under his skin was spewing ice. It only lasted for two seconds, but it was one of the worst things Peter had ever experienced.   
  
“I was here when the world took its first breath,” said Lich-Jake. “And I will be here when the final light is extinguished.”   
  
Peter thrust his hand under his coat and whipped out a flask of holy water. He rolled his eyes.   
  
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” said Peter.  
  
He unscrewed the flask and thrust the contents at Lich-Jake. Peter silently apologized to Jake. This was always the worst part.   
  
Lich-Jake jerked backwards, his nose gushing blood. He let out a noise that sounded like air escaping from a corpse. His skin sizzled and burned where the holy water touched it, a dark patch appearing on Lich-Jake’s exposed neck and cheek.   
  
Peter stood there with the flask in his hand and grinned. That was the good stuff. The best and most potent holy water money could buy. Back in the day, people like Peter used to dunk possessed people in tubs of that stuff. They stopped because, well, humans couldn’t breathe underwater. Killing the person and the demon kind of defeated the purpose. Especially when the demon just happened to be possessing a young child, which was often the case a long time ago.   
  
Lich-Jake laughed and rubbed his cheek. The patch was already fading and his skin wasn’t burning anymore.   
  
“You are afraid,” said Lich-Jake.   
  
Peter glanced at the flask. Crap. He really thought that was going to buy him more time. But Lich-Jake had recovered in just a few seconds. Not enough time for Peter to grab something more useful from his bag of tricks.   
  
Lich-Jake grabbed Peter’s face in his hands.   
  
“You are weak,” said Lich-Jake. “You cannot stop me, Peter.”  
  
Peter wanted to answer, but his tongue was frozen in his mouth. His limbs refused to move. When Lich-Jake let go of him, Peter just crumpled to the ground like a plastic bag.   
  
“As you begin, you must fall,” said Lich-Jake. “I am the end of all things, come to consume you.”   
  
Peter tried to get up, but his body refused to move. He was shaking violently from a nonexistent drastic drop in temperature. He was cold, colder than humanly possible. So cold that Peter was sure he was about to freeze to death. He was getting the sensation of freezing to death without the death part, which was somehow worse.   
  
Lich-Jake turned and started walking away, his hands shoved into his pockets. He paused and looked over his shoulder.   
  
“All things and all worlds must die, Peter,” he said. “And I am the death of all worlds.”   
  
He walked away at a leisurely pace, like he wasn’t in a hurry to reach his destination.   


* * *

  
  
Bonnie plopped another pile of old books onto the table. She had the biggest smile on her face, even as a cloud of dust almost choked her to death.   
  
“Section C to D!” she said.  
  
Thank Glob everything was in alphabetical order and separated by date. The church had way too many ancient texts, most of them in some obscure dead language that Bonnie just happened to know. There were also some scrolls and pieces of scattered parchment, but Bonnie hadn’t touched any of those yet. She was afraid they might fall apart in her hands if she did.   
  
They were still dressed in their bar disguises, except Pris had loaned Marcy his coat. Marcy was wearing the coat over her shoulders, her hair freed and flopping down the back of her neck.   
  
Marcy groaned and collapsed across the table. They’d been at this for hours. Just sitting in that tiny back room and reading reading reading. Nothing to break up the monotony. Except Bonnie doing the cutest little dance whenever she found something interesting.   
  
“Are we done yet?” said Marcy.   
  
Bonnie shook her head and tapped the pile of books.  
  
“Nope,” she said. “We’re still in the 1600s.”   
  
Marcy pressed her cheek against the table and let out another frustrated groan. When Pris said they’d be looking at books, she pictured a few modest stacks of ancient texts. But this? This was a fucking library.   
  
Bonnie leaned forward, propping her elbows on the stack of books.  
  
“Isn’t this bonzo-banana?” said Bonnie. “It’s, like, a brand new world of scientific study.”   
  
Admitting that almost caused Bonnie actual physical pain. There was so much knowledge here, so much history. But if Bonnie tried to share any of it with her colleagues in the scientific community, she was probably going to get laughed off the forums. Ghosts? Demons? Vampires? Witches? Even the most open-minded scientist wasn’t going to buy any of this.   
  
Bonnie skipped—actually skipped—back to the shelves to grab a few more books.   
  
Marcy stared at the back of Bonnie’s head. The tough part about being a vampire was that no one really cared. After the initial shock wore off, it just became one of those things. Floating? Shapeshifting? Old news. It stopped being a novelty and suddenly the ladies weren’t interested. The guys never really stopped bugging her, but the ladies seemed to get bored extra fast. Except Bonnie.   
  
“So, uh, science,” said Marcy. “How did Bonnibel get into beakers and test tubes?”   
  
Bonnie dropped two more books on the table. She squinted at Marcy, like she was scanning for bullshit. But the question seemed totally innocent. And Marcy genuinely wanted Bonnie to explain her love of science.   
  
“I guess my uncle?” said Bonnie. “He was kind of a huge science nerd.”   
  
She ran her finger across the spine of a book, a slight smile on her face. No one ever asked Bonnie about her family. Peter respected Bonnie’s privacy too much to prod, Finn had zero interest in Bonnie’s past, and Max couldn’t have cared less.   
  
“We lived in the middle of nowhere,” said Bonnie. “Not much to do ‘round those parts. I used to explore. Sometimes I found things. Old parts. Magazines. I made things.”   
  
She blushed, realizing she’d just revealed more about her past to Marcy than she ever had to anyone else in her entire life. No one really wanted to know about her life, where she grew up, her family. No one needed to know. It wasn’t like Bonnie’s falling-out with her family was particularly exciting. It was the kind of story that people heard over and over again. She wasn’t special.   
  
Marcy leaned her head on her arm and smiled.  
  
“That’s donking aborbs, Bonnibel,” said Marcy.   
  
Bonnie shoved her face into a book to avoid making eye contact with Marcy.   
  
“Read fast,” said Bonnie.   
  
Marcy grabbed a book and opened it. These books were almost impossible to read. Apparently no one knew how to get straight to the point.   
  
Bonnie peeked at Marcy over the top of her book. She was pretty sure that Marcy had been doing the “flirting” thing for a while, but she couldn’t be one hundred percent certain. Social dynamics between friends were so needlessly complicated. It was difficult to measure intent. Or maybe Bonnie was just a little dense because she’d never really had any close friends or a non-platonic relationship. The best course of action seemed to be data collection. That was always the best course of action.   
  
“So what about you?” said Bonnie.  
  
Marcy skimmed through another page of over-complicated language.   
  
“Me?” said Marcy. “I, uh, got turned into a vampire about a thousand years ago. I think. Time is weird.”   
  
Bonnie put down her book, her brow furrowed. She was surprisingly unfazed by the fact that Marcy was apparently a thousand years old. That wasn’t the part that she had to think about for a minute.  
  
“Wait, you weren’t always a vampire?” said Bonnie.  
  
Marcy rolled her eyes.  
  
“Um, _duh_,” said Marcy. “What the frizz, Bonnibel? You think I was born a sexy vampire lady? How would that even work, weirdo?”   
  
Bonnie thought for a second. Yeah, Marcy was right. Nothing about that made any sense. But if Bonnie accepted that vampires were real in the first place, people being born vampires didn’t seem too far-fetched.   
  
“What happened?” said Bonnie.   
  
Marcy hesitated. She really didn’t like telling this story. Not that people usually asked. Marcy had pretty much blocked out that part of her history. Sure, being a vampire was totes fun and she enjoyed the hell out of it every second of every day. But she didn’t like thinking about how she got there.  
  
“There was this super bad dude,” said Marcy. “I guess he called himself, like, the Vampire King or something?”  
  
She touched the two marks on her neck. They were probably never going to heal. On the bright side, they kind of looked like a cool tattoo.   
  
“I was hunting him,” said Marcy. “I hunted vampires. That was totes my jam back in the day.”   
  
She shrugged.  
  
“Big dude got me in a tough spot,” said Marcy. “I got him, but I guess he got me too.”  
  
Bonnie swallowed. For some reason, she hadn’t expected the story to sound so brutal and depressing. She wondered what she would have done in that scenario.  
  
“That’s awful,” said Bonnie.   
  
Marcy rubbed the back of her neck and smiled apologetically.  
  
“Yeah,” she said. “Guess it is, Bonnibel.”  
  
Bonnie returned to her book, slightly uncomfortable. Well, now they were even. They both knew something deeply personal about each other. That probably meant they were bonded for life or something. Bonnie still hadn’t cracked the relationship code, but she was getting there.   
  
Marcy skimmed another page. Was it just her imagination or were the paragraphs getting longer? She didn’t know why she even bothered. They knew the Lich was older than the 1500s, possibly older than the written word. But Pris promised—or at least kind of promised—some new info.   
  
After about thirty minutes, Bonnie grabbed another book. Most of the books were untitled and there was no author listed. Reading through them, Bonnie was starting to understand why Pris was so well-versed in the world of the supernatural. Bonnie couldn’t take all of those accounts at face value, but she _had_ seen a lot of that stuff up close. She was starting to wonder about all the paranormal stories she’d heard over the years, the ones she’d laughed at. How many of them were true?   
  
Bonnie flipped open the book. The introduction and the first few chapters seemed to be in Latin, but the others were in a variety of languages. Skimming through the pages, Bonnie noticed the abrupt language shift between paragraphs. One paragraph would start and finish in Arabic, followed by a paragraph in English. And as Bonnie progressed through the pages, she realized that the language was getting more modern. She recognized common slang from the fifties on some of the later pages.   
  
She went back to the first page and read carefully. After a few minutes, Bonnie slammed the book on the table.   
  
Marcy raised her head, peeking over a thick book written in some language she could barely read. After being alive for over a thousand years, Marcy should have been able to read every language in existence. But stuff like that wasn’t really her jam. She’d basically spent those thousand years partying, banging, and fighting vampires.  
  
“Oh my Glob!” said Bonnie.   
  
She turned the book around and pointed at the page she was looking at.  
  
“This book is all about the Lich,” she said. “It’s filled with encounters.”  
  
Bonnie started skimming, her heart thumping at max speed. This wasn’t just a journal. It was a timeline. Most of the encounters were disjointed and confusing, but there were notes—also written in multiple languages—in the margins and some clarifying illustrations. There were a few encounters that didn’t seem to involve the Lich, but most of them talked about the Lich in deliberate detail. The book spanned several centuries, the very last page covering a few scattered sightings in the seventies.   
  
“Wow, that’s nutso,” said Bonnie. “He’s been moving.”  
  
She ran her finger across the page like she was tracing an invisible map. There was a pattern to most of the later encounters, a trail to follow. At some point before the encounters in the book stopped, the Lich had started traveling to specific places. It took Bonnie a minute to understand why.  
  
“The book,” she said. “He’s been following the ding-dang-donking book. The Enchiridion.”   
  
The smile left her face. Most of those stories did not have a happy ending. The Lich was a being of pure destruction, leaving a path of death and suffering. Pretty much every story ended with at least one person dead, traumatized, or missing. Entire towns were wiped off the map, information destroyed, lives lost.   
  
Marcy cracked her knuckles.   
  
“So what are we doing to waste that son of a blee-blop?” said Marcy. “Come on, Bonnibel. There has to be something in that big science brain.”  
  
Bonnie slumped in her chair. She really thought she found something. And she did, it just wasn’t the something she needed. What was it that her uncle used to say about information collecting? Something about how sciencing got more difficult the more you knew?   
  
“I got nothing,” said Bonnie. “It’s totes blooby, Marceline. I ding-dang goofed it.”   
  
Marcy got out of her chair and went over to Bonnie’s side of the table. She put both hands on Bonnie’s shoulders and squeezed them.  
  
“Hey,” said Marcy. “You didn’t goof it, okay?”  
  
Bonnie touched Marcy’s hand and stared straight ahead.  
  
“But I did,” she said. “I don’t have a plan. I don’t know what to do.”  
  
She groaned in frustration, shoving her hands into her hair.  
  
“Do we, like, give the Lich the book?” said Bonnie. “Is that what we do? Or do we try to waste him? Ugh. What would Simon do?”   
  
Marcy leaned forward, her hands still on Bonnie’s shoulders. Her face was suddenly way closer to Bonnie’s in a way that made Bonnie blush.  
  
“You don’t need Simon, nerd,” said Marcy. “I know you can do this, Bonnibel. You’re the jazz.”   
  
Bonnie stood up abruptly, almost toppling her chair over. She didn’t want Marcy to let go of her, but Marcy’s closeness was making it really hard to focus. And Bonnie couldn’t admit that because it sounded ridiculous.  
  
“Yeah,” said Bonnie. “I am the jazz. I’m the donking best.”   
  
She shoved the book into her bag. Pris didn’t give them the go-ahead to take anything, but this was kind of an emergency. Pris would understand, right? Sometimes rules—even library rules—had to be broken.  
  
“Let’s get that son of a blee-blop,” said Bonnie.   
  
She grabbed Marcy’s wrist and led her out of that cramped back room. The thing forming in Bonnie’s head was less of a plan and more of a desperate hope, but it was all they had.  


* * *

  
  
Rain was crumpled on the bathroom floor, her back against the sink. Her eyes were closed and she wasn’t moving, but she was alive.   
  
Finn knelt next to Rain, gently trying to shake her awake. He feared the worst, but he also didn’t know what the worst even was yet. All Finn knew was that Jake wasn’t in the apartment and that terrified him.   
  
Finn gritted his teeth. How could he be so stupid? Jake was supposed to be the one who goofed up. No, that wasn’t entirely true. Jake was a good older brother, probably the best. Jake tried his best with what little he had. But he was always a brother to Finn and hardly ever a parent.   
  
“What’s wrong with her?” said Finn.   
  
He checked her pulse again. Rain’s heart was still beating, but she seemed to be in shock.   
  
Kara was examining a patch of floor. She picked up a torn piece of cloth and held it up. Kara couldn’t be sure, but she thought it was from Jake’s jacket. There were also a few drops of blood on the tiles.   
  
Rain finally opened her eyes. She looked directly at Finn, her brow furrowed.   
  
“Jake?” she said.   
  
Finn swallowed and shook his head. He’d texted Jake a dozen times before they got to the apartment. No answer. Finn had tried to be subtle, asking Jake where he was, what they should have for dinner, etc. Trying to pretend he didn’t know what was happening. But nothing worked.   
  
Rain scrambled to her feet, grabbing the sink for support. She wasn’t physically hurt, but that entire encounter had sucked out all of her energy. It was a draining combo of trying to keep herself protected with what little power she had and attempting to yank the Lich out of Jake’s body. Unsurprisingly, impromptu exorcism without proper equipment plus weak protection spells weren’t exactly a safe combination. At least the Lich had left her alone, but Rain couldn’t be sure if it was because of the amulet she was holding or if the Lich had simply decided she wasn’t worth it.   
  
Either way, Rain reached into her bag and pulled out two crescent moon amulets along with a tiny bundle of sage. She handed the amulets and the bundle to Finn. Rain always kept at least two spare amulets with her at all times. She never thought she’d actually have to use them.   
  
“Keep the sage in your pocket,” said Rain. “Burn it if you feel unsafe.”   
  
She pulled something else out of her bag: a small vial of salt and dirt. Common kitchen salt combined with dirt from a graveyard. Rain handed the vial to Kara.   
  
“For emergencies,” said Rain. “If the Lich tries to get inside you, swallow that with some holy water. It should force him out.”  
  
Finn stared at the sage and amulets he was holding.   
  
“Whoa,” he said. “You just have all this stuff? That’s kind of banana-bread.”  
  
Rain let out a weak laugh. She was still holding onto the sink for support.  
  
“Have to be ready for anything,” she said.   
  
Rain flinched. Except the Lich. Rain wasn’t ready for the Lich. Oh Grod. Rain could have actually done something if she didn’t freak out like that. She was lucky to be alive. That could have gone so much worse for everyone. Hopefully the charm Rain had managed to slip into Jake’s jacket pocket was doing its work. Rain had slipped it in there weeks ago and Jake probably hadn’t noticed. With all the junk—loose change, candy wrappers, expired coupons—in Jake’s pockets, of course he wouldn’t notice a tiny bundle of herbs and flowers.   
  
Finn and Kara put on their amulets. Finn slipped the little bundle of sage into his pocket—he already had a lighter that he never really used—and Kara took the vial.   
  
“So how do we find Jake before the Lich toasts our buns?” said Finn.   
  
Rain handed Kara and Finn some holy water. She gave them one flask each. Rain would have given them more, but it was all she had. Rain didn’t usually need buckets of holy water.   
  
“And what do we do with this guy?” said Kara.   
  
Finn chewed his lip. He knew Kara and Rain weren’t going to like this. But he’d been thinking about it since he left Marcy’s house. Bonnie would have had some brilliant science plan, but Finn was doing the best he could with what he had.   
  
“I think we should give him the book,” said Finn.   
  
Rain and Kara stared at him. They didn’t say anything. They just stared, their faces totally blank.  
  
Finn raised both hands.  
  
“Okay, okay, hear me out,” said Finn. “This guy wants to totally bake our beans, right? And he’s in Jake right now. So if we give him the book, he’ll let us all ago.”  
  
Rain looked at Finn like he was a complete dumbass.  
  
“And then he’ll donk up the entire world probably,” said Rain. “We can’t let the Lich get his hands on that book, Finn. Only bad things will happen.”  
  
Finn shook his head.  
  
“Not if we stop him,” said Finn.   
  
Rain gave Finn a sympathetic look. She understood where the poor kid was coming from. If she could have solved this by handing over the Enchiridion? She would have done it in a heartbeat. Jake was always worth it. But. This wasn’t just about some stupid book. Dealing with demons was always bad news.   
  
“That’s a huge_ if_, Finn,” said Kara. “Stuff is totes blooby right now. We can’t take any chances. We can’t let the Lich have what we wants.”   
  
Finn’s voice shook and cracked.  
  
“So we just—we just let that donking bean-hole have Jake?” said Finn.   
  
Rain grabbed Finn’s shoulder. She let go of the sink, wobbling slightly on her legs.   
  
“No,” she said. “We _will_ save Jake. I promise.”   
  
Rain pulled one last thing out of her bag. It was a silver dagger, the blade infused with holy water. Rain didn’t want to use that. She was praying that she didn’t have to. But the situation had become unpredictable.   
  
Rain clipped the dagger to her belt. Rain’s first priority—along with rescuing Jake—was keeping Finn safe. It was what Jake—the real Jake—would have wanted.


	12. Tracking and Stuff

Bonnie burst into Marcy’s house, holding the book over her head and grinning.

“We flipping did it!” she said.

Marcy was right behind her, pumping both fists in the air and cheering softly. She hadn’t really done anything, but it felt nice to be celebrated. And she had zero clue what exactly they were supposed to have _done, _because from her point of view they were still shit out of luck.

Bonnie slammed the book down on the kitchen table.

Betty jolted awake. Mumbling, she grabbed her glasses and jammed them onto her face.

“I have come up with a sixty-percent flawless plan to fix all of our problems,” said Bonnie.

She sounded so proud of herself, like she’d hacked the universe. The way her face lit up when she said it, the way she just _glowed. _It was the cutest thing Marcy had ever seen in her entire life.

Betty scratched her head and yawned. She was still tired, but that was pretty much irrelevant. Betty had pulled about a thousand all-nighters during her college days. She could probably survive a whole week without sleep if she had to.

“Only sixty-percent?” said Betty.

Bonnie’s smile drooped. Yeah, that didn’t exactly sound promising.

“It’s a work in progress, okay?” she said. “I-I wanted to run it by you before we did anything.”

That wasn’t one hundred percent true—Bonnie had total confidence in her own abilities—but she _did _need a second opinion. No one was going to listen to her pitch unless she got someone else on board. Because what she was about to suggest sounded completely insane.

Betty stretched, twisting her neck from side to side.

“Sure, man,” she said. “Hit me.”

Bonnie started to explain, but she stopped. Bonnie furrowed her brow and looked around.

“Uh, where’s Finn and Kara?” said Bonnie.

Betty started to answer, but she suddenly realized that she had no idea. In her defense, she’d been totally conked out for the last few hours. It wasn’t like keeping track of a teenager and a cute buff lady was her top priority.

Marcy checked her bedroom and the bathroom. She was ready to raise hell if either of those dorks were in her bedroom. But Marcy’s bedroom and the bathroom were completely empty. There were signs that Finn or Kara had been in her bedroom, but that was a discussion for later. At the moment, Marcy was more concerned about their vanishing act.

Bonnie raised her arms and let out a frustrated angry groan.

“What the flip-flack?” said Bonnie.

She pulled out her phone and dialed Finn’s number.

Bonnie’s call went straight to voicemail. She tried again. And again. Four more times. Straight to voicemail every time. Texting gave the exact same result: Bonnie sent about twenty texts and they were all left unanswered. Finn was usually prompt about answering texts.

“Did they—did they leave?” said Bonnie.

Somehow the thought freaked her out more than the possibility of something demon-related. She could understand if the Lich had swooped in and kidnapped them. But if they just left of their own accord, that was a whole new can of worms. There was only one reason Finn would have left the house: something had happened to Jake.

Bonnie pressed the phone to her chest. She started to hyperventilate. _No. No. NO. _How had Bonnie not predicted this? How had Bonnie—with her big science brain—not seen this coming? Of course the Lich would go after Jake. Everyone they knew was in danger, everyone they knew was a target. What about Peter? Or Moe? Or Kara’s girlfriend Frieda?

Marcy floated over to Bonnie.

“Whoa, dude,” she said. “Chill. Just _chill.”_

She touched Bonnie’s shoulder.

“Can you do that for me, Bon-Bon?” said Marcy. “Can you chill?”

Bonnie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She told herself to breathe, to stay calm, to remember what she was doing and where she was. Bonnie tried to recreate Marcy’s house in her head. Something she could focus on instead of the panic swirling in her head. Bonnie hadn’t freaked out like that since the first time she took an exam.

“Don’t call me that,” said Bonnie.

Marcy clapped her hands, flipping over so she was floating upside down.

“_There’s _my Bonnibel,” she said.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. She was still scared, but at least she wasn’t about to pass out. A significant improvement. And now that her head was clearing, Bonnie could finally think. She could get the gears in her brain turning.

“Something must have happened to Jake,” said Bonnie.

Marcy frowned.

“What, you think the Lich, like, donked him up real bad?” said Marcy.

Bonnie shuddered. No, she was imagining something way worse. But she nodded, refusing to entertain the morbid images in her head. Bonnie wanted to believe that Jake was okay. Because if Jake was okay, there was a good chance Peter and Frieda were.

“So what do we do?” said Marcy.

Betty nudged her chair back and stood up from the table. She adjusted her glasses, her face impassive. She shrugged in response to Marcy’s question.

“We go donk up the Lich’s stuff?” said Betty.

Marcy cracked her knuckles, flipping over again so she wasn’t floating upside down anymore. She loved the sound of that. The Lich was seriously overdue for a good old-fashioned ass-kicking.

Bonnie grabbed Marcy’s shoulder and squeezed it.

“Wait,” she said. “This is real ding-dang-bananas, you guys. We need a plan.”

She bit her lip. _Okay, okay, okay. _This wasn’t impossible. It was like a math equation or a science experiment, except with a thousand more variables. Bonnie just had to stack her Lich plan on top of this new plan. _Perfect._

Betty opened the laptop. She already knew that they needed a plan. She’d known that for a while. Except Betty hadn’t come up with one because this whole situation was a tangled messy web. The Lich was unpredictable and dangerous, way more dangerous than a cursed crown.

“Normal exorcism won’t work,” said Betty. “This guy is totally bonzo-beans powerful. If we want to toast his buns, we’re gonna need something intense.”

She showed Bonnie and Marcy what she was looking at. It was an illustration from an old book. Four people gathered around what looked like a makeshift altar. In the center of the illustration, a dead-eyed figure—smaller than the others—was lying in a contorted heap, its limbs twisted in ways that didn’t seem possible. The figure was lying on some kind of weird symbol that Bonnie didn’t recognize from any of the books she’d read. The figure and the symbol were surrounded by candles.

“You think—you think he’s_ in _Jake?” said Bonnie.

Betty shrugged.

“Do we know he’s not?” she countered.

Bonnie didn’t have an argument for that. She knew barely anything about exorcism or possession. From what little she did know, Bonnie had decided that it sounded closer to science than anything else they’d done.

Marcy squinted at the illustration.

“Oh, cool,” said Marcy. “I think I have some of this stuff.”

She floated into her bedroom.

Betty reclined in her chair and frowned.

“I heard burning a vanilla-scented candle will keep bad spirits and demons away,” said Betty.

Bonnie was unloading the contents of her bag. There was so much stuff in there. Mostly books she was re-reading and some unfinished little gadgets that she kept on her. But right now Bonnie needed space.

“That’s not science,” said Bonnie.

Betty laughed.

“Nope,” said Betty. “We’re sort of beyond that.”

Bonnie pulled a small device out of her bag. It was an old flip phone that she’d tried to modify into a makeshift “sound player”. That didn’t sound very scientific, but it was something Bonnie had been tinkering with on-and-off for the past few months. The device was supposed to play a specific noise at various frequencies. Bonnie theorized that she could use the device to find things hidden underground, kind of like a metal detector but relying entirely on frequencies. It was a complicated concept and very much a work in progress.

Bonnie frowned at the device in her hand. She suddenly had an idea. An insane idea. But there was a chance it might work. Bonnie just needed a few components from the laptop and some time. At least twenty or thirty minutes.

Bonnie grinned as she tore into this new project. Betty had her knowledge of the supernatural and Marcy had her vampire powers. And Bonnie had science to bridge that massive gap.

* * *

The problem with tracking down the Lich was that none of them knew where to start.

Finn tried texting Jake again, but of course there was no answer. Finn was starting to freak out, wondering if maybe this whole thing was somehow a misunderstanding. Maybe Jake wasn’t possessed at all. Maybe Jake had gotten hooked on some bad drugs and he was wandering around Candace in a chemical-induced haze. After all, why would the Lich be letting them dangle like this? What was the point?

“What the flip are we supposed to do?” Finn said.

Rain was sitting cross-legged on the living room floor with her eyes shut. She was trying to focus on the amulet she’d slipped into Jake’s jacket pocket. The amulet had a single strand of Rain’s hair in it, a little personal touch to make the witchcraft stronger. She was hoping that was enough for her to sense its location. So far? Radio silence.

Kara was pacing back and forth. She was hoping Finn or Rain had some kind of plan, but it was pretty obvious that neither of them had anything solid. And Kara wasn’t really good at making plans without Frieda.

Kara nervously chewed her bottom lip. If the Lich was going after people close to them, did that mean Frieda was in danger? Or was Frieda too far away for the Lich to reach her? For once, Kara was thankful that Frieda was on a research trip overseas without Internet access or cell reception.

Finn’s phone buzzed as he got another text message. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the message, his heart already sinking.

Of course it was Bonnie. Texting Finn again for probably the hundredth time. She wanted to know where he was and if he was okay. And could Finn answer that? Could he _really _answer that? Because he definitely wasn’t okay. He was terrified and angry and in general having a very bad time. And more importantly, Finn didn’t want to explain all of this to Bonnie. She wasn’t going to take his side.

Finn sighed. Didn’t they promise Simon that they would work together? How was _this _working together? And Finn felt like this was completely his fault. He was the one who wanted to leave. Kara just followed him because she knew he’d get himself killed without her.

Finn finally texted back. He told Bonnie what was going on, why him and Kara left, and why he couldn’t go back until he knew Jake was okay. He didn’t give a shit if Bonnie blew up at him over text. Finn stood by his decision.

Bonnie texted back. It was short and to the point: _Be there. Mad._

Finn swallowed. Well, at least she wasn’t internalizing it? At least she was being openly pissed at him, right? Finn would have felt even worse if Bonnie had decided to bottle up her feelings. He felt like she did that a lot.

Kara crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“Please tell me Bonnie is coming,” she said.

Finn sighed. Why couldn’t Kara have any faith in him? Honestly, it was kind of insulting.

“Bonnie is coming,” said Finn.

Kara visibly relaxed. _Thank Glob._

Bonnie and Marcy arrived at the apartment about forty minutes later.

Bonnie raised her arms and stared at Finn.

“What the _stuff, _man?” she said.

Finn hung his head. He knew he was being a selfish idiot. But Jake would have done the same thing. Well, maybe not. Jake probably would have done something even more reckless and dumb.

“Jake’s totally zonked up,” said Finn. “The Lich got him.”

Bonnie shook her head. How the hell could she even articulate this? She kept forgetting that Finn was a kid. He was in that crucial developmental stage before his ascension to adulthood. Right now Finn was in the “dumb teenager” phase of his life. And Bonnie had to be the adult who told him that he was an idiot.

“You can’t just run off,” said Bonnie. “You—you really messed me up.”

She bit her lip. Despite everything, Bonnie couldn’t pretend she didn’t give a crap about Finn. He was a good kid. Dumb, but good. And Bonnie didn’t care how badly this was going to screw up their already shaky relationship. Finn’s crush on her was well-documented.

“Geez,” said Finn. “I’m sorry. I—I was just—I wasn’t thinking.”

He shook his head.

“But—but—_Jake,” _said Finn. “What are we gonna do?”

Marcy glanced at Bonnie. They both knew that this wasn’t a plan. This was a hilariously desperate attempt at pretending they knew what they were doing. But Bonnie seemed to really believe in this. Or at least Bonnie was great at faking.

“I have a plan,” said Bonnie.

She pulled the book out of her bag and slammed it on the coffee table. Bonnie flipped the book open and ran her finger across the page. Whoever had been keeping these records, they must have traveled all over the world. Or had the _book _traveled, completely independent of any individual author? Bonnie couldn’t be sure.

“The Lich can only donk up one body at a time, right?” she said.

She traced invisible shapes with her finger. Now that she went over it in her head again? It sounded insane. But it was Bonnie’s last card. The ultimate final play. If this didn’t work, they were toasted.

“So what if we give him a body?” said Bonnie. “We give him a body to mess with and trap him inside?”

Finn frowned at her.

“Whoa, like, just get him all junked up in someone’s deal?” said Finn. “How’s that work?”

Bonnie rubbed the back of her neck. She’d been dreading that question. She knew someone was going to call her out about that. She just wasn’t expecting it to be Finn.

“I—I don’t know,” said Bonnie.

She looked at Rain. Bonnie couldn’t believe she was asking a _witch _for help. Less than a week ago, Bonnie thought magic was bullshit and she would have laughed at anyone who tried to tell her otherwise. Yet another reason for Bonnie to get laughed out of the scientific community if she ever spoke up about all of this.

Rain stood up. The meditation wasn’t getting her anywhere. But she trusted whatever Bonnie was doing. Rain would have never said this out loud—Bonnie would have probably lectured her for three days—but there was this cross section between magic and science. Bonnie would have made an awesome witch.

“It’s possible,” said Rain. “But it will need to be a strong vessel to resist the Lich’s influence.”

Bonnie’s heart sank. _Oh. Right. _They couldn’t have someone with Lich-level strength running around. That didn’t help them at all.

Finn pressed a hand against his chest and let out a long sigh.

“I’ll do it,” said Finn. “For Jake.”

Marcy playfully punched Finn’s shoulder.

“No, ya donk,” said Marcy.

Finn was about to argue in favor of his heroic sacrifice, but Rain jumped in first. Finn read way too many young adult novels about teens going on dangerous adventures. Rain really wished he’d stop for the sake of his mental health. But considering what was happening now, maybe Finn’s reading habits were just foreshadowing.

“No,” said Rain. “You’re not strong enough, Finn. It needs to be someone innocent.”

Bonnie sighed in relief. _Thank Grod. _If Rain hadn’t said anything, she would have had to physically prevent Finn from sacrificing himself.

“Innocent?” said Bonnie.

Rain held up both hands, palms out. She closed her eyes, like she was focusing her energy. She _was _focusing, although no one in the room could see or feel anything. Rain was visualizing something in her mind. It was so vivid that she almost felt like she could touch it. Swirling shapes and symbols.

“The Lich is death, destruction, an ending,” said Rain. “Only a pure soul can contain it. Someone innocent. The opposite of death.”

Bonnie chewed her lip. That sounded the opposite of scientific. It sounded like, well,_ magic. _Mystical and symbolic and ultimately incomprehensible to her big science nerd brain. Bonnie had spent her entire life trying to understand the world through science. Apparently she knew almost nothing.

“And that will work?” said Bonnie.

Rain opened her eyes and lowered her hands. She shrugged.

“I think so,” she said.

It wasn’t what Bonnie was looking for, but she accepted it. It wasn’t like Bonnie’s nerd brain was brimming with plans.

Finn slammed his fist into his open palm.

“Then let’s go toast his buns,” said Finn.

Bonnie pulled something out of her bag and held it up. _Finally. _Time to prove she wasn’t totally useless. The thing about magic was that it ultimately sounded like science with extra steps. Bonnie could work with that.

“Check this out,” said Bonnie.

She waved the device in the air. It looked like a flip phone with a bunch of random parts attached to it. A really bad first impression. But it was maybe the best thing Bonnie had ever made. A bridge between science and the paranormal.

“This thing can detect demon biz,” said Bonnie.

She handed the device to Finn, along with a pair of earbuds he could connect to it.

“If it detects anything, it should make a noise,” said Bonnie. “The closer we get, the louder the noise becomes. Got it?”

Finn nodded. He hooked up the earbuds and slid them into his ears.

Marcy quirked her eyebrow If she was being honest? The device in Finn’s hand looked like a bunch of hot steaming garbage. But Marcy wasn’t a scientist.

“Uh, you mean like an EMF detector thingy?” she said.

Bonnie crossed her arms and pouted.

“No, this is totes different,” said Bonnie. “This is _real science, _Marceline.”

She was about to add that all those ghost shows were totally fake, but then Bonnie realized that she was talking to a fucking _vampire. _Bonnie still thought all those shows were fake. What were the chances that ghosts became more active every time some guy with a degree in paranormal studies wandered into a creepy house? But still, there was no way Bonnie was arguing about the validity of _ghost-hunting shows _with a girl who was floating five inches off the ground.

Bonnie didn’t even know if her demon-detecting-device—which she nicknamed the “3-D”–was going to work. There was no way for her to test it before they took it into the field.

Before they all left the apartment, Kara texted Max to tell him that they might not be coming into work. Even though there was zero chance he was actually going to read the text or care, Kara thought he should know. Common courtesy.

* * *

Finn took the lead, the 3-D stuffed into his pocket and the earbuds tucked into his ears.

It was still way too foggy outside. Bonnie borrowed one of Jake’s jackets and zipped it up all the way. Everyone else seemed okay with the cold, which made her feel kind of like a huge baby. Bonnie was sensitive to pretty much any drop or rise in temperature. She couldn’t wear anything more than a light T-shirt and underwear during the summer.

Bonnie didn’t know where they were going or what they were doing. They were kind of just wandering. Thanks to the fog, they didn’t even know where they were anymore. Bonnie legitimately considered whipping out her phone and firing up the GPS.

“Um, is this fog getting hella thick or….?” Marcy said.

Bonnie tucked her hands into her pockets and nodded. She knew—or at least hoped—it was just weather, but this was kind of nuts. She could barely see two inches in front of her face. Bonnie had to hold onto Marcy’s arm so they wouldn’t get separated.

Marcy squinted into the fog. She wanted to tease Bonnie for clinging to her, but Marcy was clutching the back of Finn’s jacket. If they hadn’t been holding onto each other, they definitely would have gotten lost. . They were extra screwed if Finn got away from them.

Finn perked up, raising his head to stare at the, well, _nothing _in front of him.

“Whoa,” he said. “Guys?”

The noise was faint, but Finn instantly knew what it was. He turned his head from side to side, trying to figure out where it was trying to lead him. Turning his head to the left did jack-shit, but the noise definitely got louder when Finn turned to the right. It was a subtle difference, but Finn inclined his head slightly towards the right and the sound increased in volume.

“Oh crabs,” said Bonnie.

She dug her fingernails into Marcy’s arm. Until this exact moment, Bonnie thought she actually wanted her device to work. And she _did, _but there was also a huge part of her that didn’t want to go anywhere near the Lich.

Marcy patted Bonnie’s arm.

“Breathe, Bonnibel,” she said. “Chill.”

Bonnie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Marcy was right. Bonnie needed to chill.

Kara pulled out her flask of holy water. Kara wasn’t from Candace. She’d grown up in an isolated little village on an island. She didn’t move to Candace until after high school. But Kara had fallen in love with the town and the people she met there. She’d formed bonds. Kara had met Jake and Finn and they’d become her two closest friends. Kara didn’t like where any of this was going. What would Frieda have done?

Finn led everyone into a narrow alleyway. He tensed when he realized where they were going, but he couldn’t stop. The noise in his ears was getting more intense. Jake had to be there.

Lich-Jake was crouched beside a dumpster, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

Rain sensed him before she saw him. Or at least Rain sensed the little amulet in Jake’s pocket before any of them actually spotted him. She walked to the front and grabbed Finn’s shoulders before he could go any further.

“Jake,” said Rain.

Lich-Jake stepped fully into view, tilting his head like a curious cat. He had clearly been waiting for all of them.

Peter didn’t have time to call a formal meeting. He would have loved to send a mass text or an e-mail, but he just couldn’t. What was even the point? Getting everyone riled up? No, this was local. Peter had to work with what he had.

And what Peter _had _was a full arsenal, Daniel, and the desire to stay alive. So Peter raided his storage unit. No one else knew about that unit. If anyone had bothered looking into it, they would have found a confusing trail of false names and addresses. Zero trace of Peter.

Peter grabbed everything he could carry. His entire stash of holy water, several vials of graveyard dirt, jars of salt, daggers, etc. He packed an entire fleet of rucksacks, realized there was no way he could lug all of that around, and decided to leave most of them behind. Peter ended up with two additional backpacks full of supplies.

Locking up his storage unit, Peter considered texting Bonnie. He’d been dreading this day since they met, but Peter was ready. He was ready to tell Bonnie that she needed to leave town. He already had a bullshit excuse lined up, plus a bus ticket.

But Peter decided there was no point. Bonnie would instantly see through any excuse. And if she realized he was lying to her? There were going to be questions. Questions that Peter just didn’t want to answer.

It wasn’t like it mattered, Peter told himself. Wherever Bonnie was, she was safe.

Peter texted Daniel. Asked him to “please be on the lookout for anything demon-y”. It wasn’t that Peter didn’t trust Daniel to do field work. Daniel was sort of a goof, but he definitely knew what he was doing. But the Lich had chosen Jake. This was personal.

He had one secret weapon that he was pretty sure the Lich didn’t know about. It was a last resort. But Peter had been ready to use it since Day One. Somewhere deep in that big brain of his, he always knew the Lich was going to show its ugly face in this town. The Lich was inevitable, like the tides or music festivals. Most demons were smart, or at least more smart than the average Big Bad. They tried to stay away from huge populated areas, because there was always a larger chance of some guy with holy water and salt showing up. But the Lich? The Lich didn’t follow the rules.

Peter sat outside his storage unit, loading up a shotgun. But that was the best part, right? The rule-breaking. Because if the Lich didn’t have to follow the rules, that meant Peter didn’t have to. Just to even stuff out.

He gritted his teeth, his hands shaking as he finished loading the gun. _Crap. _It had been too long. Peter felt a little rusty. But no time for target practice. If he was going to do this, it had to be now.


	13. Reflections and Stuff

Kara clamped her hand around Finn’s wrist, keeping him in place. She knew exactly what he wanted to do: charge straight at the Lich and start pounding its face in. It didn’t matter that the thing was wearing Jake like a skin suit. If anything, that little detail would have only increased Finn’s teen-rage. But this wasn’t really the time for a beat-down, even if Finn desperately wanted to go fist-to-fist with a supernatural being of incredible power.

Lich-Jake automatically focused on Finn, like he knew exactly what was swimming in Finn’s head. It wouldn’t have taken a scientist to figure it out.

“Finn,” said Lich-Jake.

But it wasn’t Jake’s voice. It was one hundred percent pure Lich. Raspy and cold, like the voice of something that had been locked up in a tomb for one thousand years.

“What the crease did you do to my brother, you son of a blee-blop?” Finn said.

Bonnie grabbed one of Finn’s shoulders and Marcy grabbed the other. For maybe the first time in her thousand-year life, Marcy didn’t have a witty reply or something dumb to say. If there had ever been any humor in this messed up situation, it was officially gone. The four of them were facing some kind of powerful supernatural entity and only one of them—Marcy–was actually equipped to handle it.

Bonnie glanced at Marcy, her brow furrowed. _Oh donk. _Marcy was the only one of them who couldn’t die. The only one of them who was seventy-percent likely—Bonnie ran the numbers in her head—to get out of this alive. Bonnie never thought she’d want to be an immortal vampire, but she suddenly sort of wanted to test a specific theory she had earlier about how vampires worked.

“Hey,” said Kara.

She pointed her flask of holy water at the Lich. Kara was used to intimidating people. She was a large woman, almost one hundred percent muscle. She got looks when she went to the gym and women hit on her constantly. It was kind of ironic, given that Kara literally never looked for fights. But the Lich wasn’t reacting to Kara’s raw strength at all. Kara doubted the Lich was going to back off if he knew how much she could bench press. And Kara could bench press _a lot._

“Ge—Get out of our friend,” said Kara.

She swallowed. _Wow. _That sounded so much more badass in her head.

The Lich swiveled his head—_Jake’s _head—to look at Kara.

“Children,” he said. “You are all children.”

Bonnie looked rightfully offended.

“Hey, ya dip,” she said. “I’m not a _child.”_

Now she was even more pissed off. A _child? Really? _Did the Lich know anything about her? Bonnie hadn’t graduated top of her class in every subject, been accepted into several advanced scientific research programs in high school, been offered literally hundreds of scholarships from top universities, and gotten a full ride into the largest and most revered university in the country at the age of sixteen for some stupid all-powerful demon to call her a _child._

The Lich smiled, sensing he had touched one of Bonnie’s many nerves.

“I have seen the stars, child,” he said. “I have been to the end and back a thousand times. But you? You have only seen one death and it is your own. You will not live to see the universe die a thousand more times.”

Marcy snorted, finally finding her sense of humor.

“_Blah blah blah_,” she said. “I’m already a thousand years old, ya donk. You think I haven’t seen all of this before?”

She flailed her arms, gesturing wildly at everything around them.

“Everything just repeats,” said Marcy. “And most of us don’t live long enough to see the pattern. Just because you’ve seen how the world ends….”

The Lich interrupted her, his voice rising.

“I have seen the end of _every _world,” said the Lich. “And always at the end, I was there.”

He smiled, focusing his attention on Marcy. Marcy was trying to act tough—mostly for Bonnie’s sake—but she visibly recoiled from the Lich’s gaze.

“And you were there, too,” said the Lich. “The immortal child. Daughter of demon and human. You followed me to the end and watched as the world burned.”

Marcy grabbed at the front of her shirt, sucking in a deep breath. Her eyes were filled with genuine fear, like the Lich had just reached into her chest and restarted her non-working heart. This was definitely a new look for her. Marcy had never been scared of anything. Definitely not pissing-her-pants scared of the Lich.

Bonnie had a feeling that Marcy was lying. Maybe Marcy was a thousand years old, but she hadn’t seen _everything. _She might have recognized the pattern, might have realized some deep philosophical truth about existence. But the Lich kind of broke all those rules. The Lich—just as an entity—existed outside of every fundamental truth that existed in the known universe.

Marcy spoke, her voice loud and high-pitched.

“You know what?” she screamed. “You know what, ya donk? We’re gonna bake your beans. You hear me, you flipping _disease? _We’re gonna toast the dip out of you.”

She was breathing heavily, her face changing. To the untrained eye, it looked like Marcy’s entire face was contorting in incomprehensible rage. But Kara, Finn, and Bonnie knew exactly what was really happening: Marcy was shape-shifting again. She was turning into a yellow-eyed monster, her hands morphing into wolf-like paws and her teeth becoming sharper. Her mouth cracked into a huge grin as she changed, her nose and mouth fusing and elongating into a canine snout.

It was at that exact moment that Bonnie realized they didn’t have a plan. Finding the Lich had kind of been their entire plan. And now that they’d cornered him? Bonnie was drawing a blank. How exactly did you capture a supernatural being who’d apparently seen—and enjoyed—the death of the universe a thousand times?

It was also at that moment that Bonnie realized she was the only one besides Rain who wasn’t itching for a good old-fashioned beat-down. Everyone else was gearing up to fight.

“Wait–!” Bonnie started.

But Kara, Finn, and Marcy weren’t listening. The three of them had abandoned anything even vaguely resembling a plan. It was ass-kicking time and no amount of Bonnie was going to stop them.

Clutching a vial of salt and a pocketknife doused in holy water, Finn charged at the Lich. He wasn’t even sure what he was planning to do. Something painful and permanent. Because when he looked into those eyes, he didn’t see his brother. All he could see was the heartless creature that had stolen his brother’s body.

Kara and Marcy were right behind Finn, Marcy snarling like a wild animal and Kara holding up two flasks of holy water like she was going to bludgeon the Lich to death with them.

The Lich just stood there, watching the three of them with a neutral smile on his—_Jake’s—_face.

“Fall,” he said.

And the three of them collapsed to their knees as if the Lich had physically touched them.

Finn gasped, the breath punched out of his lungs. His legs gave up on him, dropping him to his knees like someone or something had slammed into his chest. He wrapped both arms around his stomach as he dropped, exhaling sharp frigid air like he’d swallowed a mouthful of snow. The world flickered out, dropping Finn into a massive void. He could feel his friends beside him, he could feel the pocketknife and salt fall out of his hands. And Finn was cold. So _cold._

Marcy pitched forward as she fell. She stayed in her shapeshifted form, but she couldn’t tell if it was by willpower or by chance that she could focus enough to do that. Not that it mattered.

“You have eyes, but they see nothing,” said the Lich. “You have ears, but you only hear the incessant hum of the universe. Do you hear the hum, Finn? Do you hear it, Kara?”

And Finn _did _hear it, even though that shouldn’t have been possible. He could hear the universe _existing _all around him. That slow steady pulse of life. It wasn’t like anything he could have put into words. It was faint and it made him very uncomfortable.

“And now,” said the Lich.

The hum stopped. It just stopped, like someone hit the Pause button. Finn was left with this deep sense of loss and loneliness, like he was the only living being left in the universe. He couldn’t even sense his friends around him anymore. Finn was just there, the only conscious creature in the entire solar system.

“S-Suck my cr-crease,” Finn managed through his cold dry lips.

That devastating comeback didn’t really land. Mostly because Finn still couldn’t move and his awareness of everything around him was muted. He wasn’t even sure he was alive anymore. Finn couldn’t hear his heart beating. And Finn had never really bought the whole idea of a soul, but there was definitely a sound that was supposed to exist in his body. A pulse or something that wasn’t there anymore.

“You are alone,” said the Lich.

The words repeated over and over again, bouncing around Finn’s head.

Finn sucked in another cold breath. _Crap. _He _was _alone. He was alone and now Jake was probably gonna die. Jake was going to die and it was a hundred percent Finn’s fault. If only Finn had kept his head down, if only he hadn’t made friends with Marcy. This was all because of him.

Kara thought she could hear Frieda’s voice in her head, a short frantic whisper that felt like a siren. She kept thinking about her and Frieda’s relationship, how they really didn’t belong together. Frieda was so smart and capable. But Kara? Kara was just a huge teddy bear who could lift heavy stuff. Frieda was out there building robots and curing rare diseases while Kara was moving furniture. How could Frieda not see it? How could _Kara _not see it?

Marcy’s head was filled with sobbing. Was she making those sounds? Did it really matter? The only one there who really truly mattered was Bonnibel. And now Bonnie was going to die because Marcy was a dumb idiot who couldn’t protect anyone. No wonder she preferred traveling solo. Everyone always got bored with her. Like Ash. And when they didn’t get bored? They ended up dead. Like Bonnie.

Bonnie was frantically pawing through her big science brain, but it was empty. How could she have not seen any of this coming? She was supposed to be the smartest person in the room. It was just like her uncle used to say: Bonnie knew diddly-shit about people. That was probably why she was such a crappy scientist. There was this whole hidden world out there and Bonnie was too blind and narcissistic to see it. That was the definition of bad science.

“……_away,” _a voice was saying.

Finn blinked. The first voice he’d heard in what suddenly felt like years. Finn held onto it, trying to figure out where and how he was hearing someone outside of his own head. He held it close until he realized that his heart was still beating, that he was still alive, that the world was coming back into sharp focus all around him.

Rain—forgotten and standing in the back—was speaking rapidly, her lips moving way faster than anyone thought was possible. The words she was saying didn’t really make a lot of sense. They were kind of jumbled and frantic. But somehow there was intent and power behind those words. It felt, well, like _magic._

Rain was holding a cord of thorns above her head, her eyes filled with determination. She’d broken a flask of salt to make a kind of barrier, a small line in front of her feet. As the Lich slowly raised his head to focus on her, Rain twisted the cord into a knot. She was clutching the cord tightly, the thorns jabbing into her flesh and blood running between her fingers. Rain tilted her hand slightly, letting some of the blood drip into the salt line in front of her.

She might have looked kind of badass standing there like that, but Rain was shaking. She had the look of someone who was about to either pass out or vomit out of fear. Probably both. _Definitely _both. But for now, she was standing there and forcing herself to look the Lich in the eye as she spoke. Focusing on the words coming out of her mouth.

Rain pulled out a small knife and pressed it against the cord. She closed her eyes for a second, whispering Jake’s name under her breath like she was praying for his mortal soul. Rain snipped the cord in half with the knife, severing it into two almost-equal parts. Rain let go of the two sections of cord and opened her eyes, breathing heavily like she’d just been running through the mountains.

She could see the Lich struggling. Struggling, but not giving up its control. Rain wasn’t surprised. That had been a very simple un-binding spell, one of the first one Rain had ever learned. Of course it was going to do jack-shit with something like the Lich. But it _did _work as a momentary distraction and it broke the others out of their trance.

Finn zeroed in on the Lich and clenched his fists. Actually, it _wasn’t _his fault. Not even slightly. How could Finn blame himself for something like this? It wasn’t like Finn invited the Lich into their lives and told it to wreck everyones’ crap. It was just a freak thing, like a tornado or Max trying to replace all of them with cheap homemade robots that one time. Finn was totally innocent. And he couldn’t tell if the warmth flowing through his whole body was because of Rain or something internal. Either way, it was awesome.

Bonnie blinked. What the fuck was she even freaking out about? Being a shitty scientist? Sure, it was pretty much the only thing she had. Science was the one thing that had never left Bonnie hanging. And it sucked that she was so ignorant about all this paranormal stuff. But wasn’t that the best part? Discovery? Now that Bonnie knew about this hidden world, she had a million new questions to ask.

Marcy flexed her claws and watched them shrink back into normal fingers. Why was she so worried about Bonnie? Bonnie could take care of herself. Bonnie probably didn’t even realize it yet, but she was a total badass. Marcy wished she could be that cool and adorable.

Kara lifted her head. She knew her and Frieda were sort of mismatched. Brains vs. brawn. But that was what made their relationship so great. Frieda answered all of Kara’s pressing science questions and Kara lifted all the heavy stuff. Perfect team. But more than that, Kara didn’t give a crap if her and Frieda weren’t a one hundred percent perfect match. They loved each other and there wasn’t a force on Earth that could take that away from them.

Rain rooted around in her brain, searching for the strongest un-binding spell she had memorized. But nothing surfaced. Everything she had was low level. She needed her books. The one thing Rain forgot because she assumed they’d be fine with an arsenal of anti-Lich measures.

Lich-Jake straightened up, his eyes glimmering like he was a rabid wolf.

“You have nothing,” said Lich-Jake.

Rain dug through her pockets, searching for another amulet or another cord or _something. _They could probably keep the Lich at bay for as long as they needed, but they needed to go beyond that. Rain needed to get that son of a blee-blop out of Jake’s body.

The group heard someone coming up behind them. Everyone turned to stare at the unexpected interloper.

Peter was standing at the entrance to the alleyway. He was wearing what looked like a freshly-pressed pants and shirt combo, his hair topped with a weird crown of herbs and flowers. There was a huge rucksack slung over Peter’s shoulder. He had a silver amulet around his neck that seemed to have somehow been infused with salt crystals. Peter was holding a shotgun.

“Peter?” said Bonnie.

Peter spoke very calmly, aiming the shotgun into the alleyway.

“Step aside, Bonnibel,” he said.

Bonnie jumped to the side, pressing herself against the wall.

There was a short flurry of shuffling footsteps as everyone instinctively did the same.

Lich-Jake just stood there, chuckling softly and staring directly at Peter. It wasn’t moving. It probably could have brought Peter to his knees with one raise of its hand, but it looked like it was waiting to see what Peter would do.

There were certain rules that creatures and the humans who hunted them had to follow. Those rules weren’t written down anywhere and inexperienced hunters were allowed to ignore them. But those rules made sure that the wider world remained ignorant of all the scary shit lurking in the shadows. That was one of Peter’s main priorities in his line of work.

But the Lich had broken the rules. It had come into Peter’s town and started wrecking stuff without permission. It had ignored or decimated every single rule about secrecy. So Peter gave himself a pass for what he was about to do.

Peter aimed at Lich-Jake’s leg and pulled the trigger. The shot went off like a cannon blast.

Lich-Jake’s smile didn’t crumple as the bullet went through its leg. It didn’t even break eye contact with Peter. It just stood there with its glowing eyes, stood there wearing Jake’s face and with Jake’s beautiful curly blonde hair. If any fear or pain passed through its eye, that fear and pain belonged to the living breathing human trapped inside of his own body as the Lich piloted him.

The shot seemed to rip Lich-Jake’s leg wide open, like someone smashed a pumpkin. It fell to the ground, its body folding forward like a piece of crumpled cardboard. It continued to look Peter directly in the eyes as it fell. It didn’t break eye contact until its face was literally on the ground with the rest of its crumpled body.

Peter let his arm fall to his side, the shotgun held loosely in his hand. He’d been preparing for this moment and he felt exactly like he’d trained himself to: completely numb. Peter really wished he could feel something. He wanted to express an emotion. Just a small one.

No one was looking at Lich-Jake’s seemingly unconscious body. Everyone—even Finn—was staring at Peter like he was the most interesting human in Candace.

Marcy pointed at Peter, her brow furrowed.

“Hey,” she said. “Don’t I know you?”

Peter didn’t answer. He was trying to stuff the shotgun into the rucksack. It had just occurred to him that everyone probably heard that. This was a small intimate town with a very active—although bumbling and mostly ineffective—police force. A gunshot like that was definitely going to get some attention. The cops were probably desperate for some action and Peter had just given them a green light. _Oh __shit._

“We have to leave,” said Peter.

He thought he could already hear sirens. And by that Peter meant a bunch of cops on foot wearing yellow-and-blue uniforms and making siren noises because they didn’t actually have cars. Peter couldn’t even tell any of them apart because they all had that same ridiculous bowl cut that made them look like walking bananas. Not that those things mattered when Peter was pretty sure all of them were about to be in huge trouble.

Peter nodded at Marcy.

“Your house,” he said. _“Now. _I assume Kara can handle the Lich?”

Kara didn’t want to touch Lich-Jake, but she agreed. She was the only one strong enough to carry Lich-Jake all the way to Marcy’s house without pausing.

Bonnie spread her arms and raised her voice. She looked extremely peeved, like she was three seconds away from exploding.

“What the actual donking banyangles-banana-bread is going on?” Bonnie said.

Peter sighed. _Dammit. _He suddenly had a lot of explaining to do. _A lot. _Bonnie wasn’t going to be happy with any of this. In fact, Peter would be absurdly lucky if Bonnie ever spoke to him again.


	14. Cosmic Destiny and Stuff

Bonnie pulled the mug of tea towards her, her hands shaking.

She hadn’t been this shaken since, well, _never. _Bonnie thought the night before she took a test was the worst, because her anxiety was always through the roof. What if she missed a basic question? What if she suddenly forgot every single thing she’d studied? What if the test got re-scheduled and Bonnie had to spend all of her sudden free-time cramming in more studying? What if her pencil or pen or whatever snapped in two and she wasn’t allowed to have a new one? What if her writing implement melted in her hand and she had to write her answers in her own blood or other bodily fluids?

But Bonnie could handle tests. She knew how to keep her breathing under control, how to stop freaking out every five seconds. She’d had a ton of training. But this? This new stuff? Bonnie was out in open waters on a raft made of gummy worms.

Bonnie looked up from her mug and stared at Peter across the table. She was having a really hard time _seeing _him. It was like she was talking to a total stranger who was wearing Peter’s face.

“So you’re a—you’re a—what the crease even are you?” said Bonnie.

Peter put his shotgun on the table. He’d been polishing it because he couldn’t think of anything better to do. But now he realized that maybe wasn’t the best way to keep his hands busy. Peter could sense all the weird looks he was getting.

“A hunter,” said Peter.

He almost added “_and a maker of Faustian bargains”_, but that was a whole other conversation.

Marcy floated into the room, her arms snuggled behind her back. She seemed to be taking this a lot better than Bonnie. Which made sense. This was Marcy’s whole deal. How did Marcy even put up with the amount of crazy shit she had to keep track of?

“I know you,” she said for the second time.

Bonnie was torn between asking Marcy about Lich-Jake—probably more important—and delving deeper into Marcy’s weird history. She had this slowly building jealousy in her chest, which she was pretty sure wasn’t the right emotion for any of this crap. But Marcy _knew _this side of Peter. Which meant Marcy officially knew more about Peter than Bonnie did. How was that even slightly fair?

Peter sighed. This was always the worst part of his job. Sometimes he envied people like Daniel. Daniel had to lie to all of his buddies, but it was hardly even lying. Daniel just had to fuzz the truth a little. It wasn’t like anyone took failed magicians seriously. Even if Daniel started spouting off about demons and ghosts, people would just assume it was all part of the performance, an extra layer to that illusion. But Peter wasn’t blessed with that luxury.

“Yes, Marceline,” said Peter. “Me and your family are, uh, _acquainted.”_

Bonnie slammed her palm on the table.

“How the _bonzo-bean-bread _do you know Marceline?” said Bonnie.

Peter shrugged.

“Oh, I made a few deals with her dad,” said Peter. “You know. Standard soul stuff.”

Bonnie massaged her temples. How the actual hellwas any of this happening? Bonnie wasn’t a newcomer. She’d been inside this insane supernatural world for years, but she just never realized it. Because everyone around her was a liar. Peter lied to her, Finn tried to pretend he didn’t have a crush on her even though he totally did. The only person who’d been one hundred percent truthful with her—besides Kara—was Marcy. And that was sad. That was _so fucking sad._

“How long have you been doing this?” said Bonnie.

Peter pretended to think about it. _Wow. _This was somehow more awkward than the time he tried to get Bonnie a boyfriend. In hindsight, Peter’s master plan for getting her out of the apartment was probably the worst thing he’d ever done. It didn’t even work. And of course the guy left before Peter could use him. A tasty pure soul just _gone. _Not that Peter blamed Bonnie, even if he was pissed off at first for reasons he never told her.

“Um, ten years?” said Peter.

He was lying of course. If he told her the real number, Bonnie wouldn’t have believed him. Even Peter didn’t believe it sometimes. He felt like he’d been doing this for his entire life. And that wasn’t too far from the truth.

Rain came out of Marcy’s bedroom. She was looping bandages around her hand. Rain hadn’t expected to lose that amount of vital fluids today. She wasn’t all wobbly and dazed yet, but she dreaded to think what would happen if she lost anymore blood. But what else was Rain supposed to do? High quality binding magic like that wasn’t her usual brand. If she didn’t go all the way, there was a good chance the Lich would rip out all of their throats.

“It’s done,” said Rain. “The seal should hold for twenty-four hours.”

Betty looked up from the laptop she was working at.

“Uh, okay, just so we’re clear, that is _not _enough time,” said Betty.

Bonnie wanted to complain about that being the opposite of helpful, but she was on the same page. Twenty four hours? Hardly enough time to find a suitable body _and _a binding spell strong enough to hold the Lich. Maybe one of those things, but definitely not both.

Betty closed the laptop and leaned her head back, cracking her stiff neck. It had been a while since Betty had been hunched over a computer like that. She felt like she was reverting back to an earlier stage in her evolution.

“Oh, and we totes need to see Simon,” said Betty. “Right now.”

Bonnie raised her eyebrows at Betty. Bonnie had squirreled away some time for herself—somehow–to speed-read through some of Betty’s academic papers. A lot of it was impressive, but even more of it was completely nutso. Apparently Betty had released—well, _semi-_released—three essays about curses, demons, and magic in the modern world. To anyone who wasn’t in the loop, those essays sounded like the paranoid ravings of a deeply disturbed woman. And in some ways they were, because those essays—all released under a fake name and copies stored on one of Betty’s hard drives—were more like journal entries documenting all the messed up crap Betty had seen and done in her quest to help Simon.

“No, you _want _to see Simon right now,” said Bonnie. “Which is _banana-bread, _by the way.”

Betty opened her laptop again and shrugged. She seemed so detached and defeated now, but Bonnie recognized that attitude. Betty was a broken person, a scientist who’d found something beyond science. Betty’s only escape from the taunts of her peers were dumb conspiracy magazines and any other barely-known publication that would take her essays. And even the people who ran those magazines didn’t actually believe anything she was saying.

“I mean, of course I do?” said Betty. “But we also need him. You all agree this is ploom-plops, right? This whole thing is so ploom-plops. But Simon might have something. A book maybe.”

Bonnie realized that she hadn’t texted Simon in hours. He was completely out of the loop. But then again, _he _hadn’t texted _her. _Bonnie was pretty sure he needed—and wanted—to know what was going on.

Marcy looked around.

“Hey, where’s Finn?” said Marcy.

Rain pointed at the closed door of Marcy’s bedroom.

“Guard duty,” she said. “He’s with Kara.”

Bonnie had a brief moment of total panic, but she calmed down pretty quickly. As long as Kara was there, nothing could go wrong, right? Kara and Finn were on the same basic wavelength. If Kara told Finn he needed to stop and think, he might actually listen. And after everything they’d been through, Kara was definitely going to be telling Finn to stop rushing into stuff. Hopefully.

Peter cleared his throat.

“If I may,” he said. “If we’re looking for a vessel, I have a pretty good idea of where we can find one.”

He grinned apologetically.

“But you’re probably not going to like it,” said Peter.

Bonnie snorted. What made Peter think she liked _any _of this? After all of this was over, Bonnie was taking a long break from her studies. She wasn’t even sure she was allowed to do that, but she was definitely going to try.

* * *

Finn touched Lich-Jake’s chest, his hand shaking.

Rain told him touching was probably the worst idea, but Finn had to. He couldn’t let his imagination run wild with images of Jake flat-lining. Not that Jake was hooked up to anything. But if Jake’s heart stopped, it was basically over. Nothing in Rain’s arsenal could save Jake from death.

Fortunately, Finn still felt the steady _pump-pump _of Jake’s heart. Jake might have _looked _half-dead, but there was still something going on under the skin. Jake was alive. Alive and ready to get un-Liched at any point in the future.

Kara was hunched over in her chair on the other side of Marcy’s bed, her head drooping forehead. Asleep, but alert. She had Peter’s shotgun. Kara didn’t really want to have a shotgun, but Bonnie had a dozen moral objections about giving it to Finn. Kara was pretty sure they were past relative morality, but why even start prying open that can of worms? If it made Bonnie happier, Kara would gladly hold the stupid shotgun.

Lich-Jake’s “wound”–which should have been fatal—had been patched up. Whatever Lich magic was pumping through Jake’s veins, it wasn’t letting him get too injured. Kara worried—although she would have never said this out loud—about what other stuff the Lich could do to a body it was piloting.

Finn let his arms fall to his sides. He’d accepted that this wasn’t completely his fault, but he also felt like he should be doing more. Everyone else got to do cool crap—like making a device to track demons—but Finn hardly contributed to anything. He was just the muscle. Well, if he was being honest with himself, that was mostly Kara. So where did that leave Finn? The _extra _muscle? The certified risk-taker? Except Finn wasn’t even allowed to take risks anymore because everyone thought he was a dumb kid and they were worried about him getting hurt.

“_It’s tragic, isn’t it?”_

Finn jerked his head up. _Crap. _He knew that voice. But it wasn’t coming out of Lich-Jake’s mouth. It was in Finn’s head. _Again. _Shouldn’t Rain’s spell or whatever have stopped that?

“_Suck my crease,” _Finn said inside of his head.

The Lich laughed. That cold empty laugh.

“_Finn Mertens,” _said the Lich. _“The lost boy.”_

Finn glanced at Kara. She couldn’t hear what the Lich was saying. And Finn didn’t think he had to wake her up. The Lich couldn’t do anything to him, right? It was all in his head.

“_Shut up,” _said Finn. _“I’m not scared of you, ya butt. What are you gonna, huh? Turn me inside out?”_

The Lich chuckled.

“_Finn, Finn,” _said the Lich. _“You’re going to get something for me.”_

Finn’s fingers twitched. He thought he’d feel a tug on his brain or something, like he was being controlled or his mind was getting taken over. But there was nothing. The Lich wasn’t forcing him to do anything. Finn wasn’t even sure it _could _force him if it wasn’t in his brain. It was _suggesting _this to Finn. _Asking_him.

“_Yeah and it’s called a knuckle sandwich with extra pickles,” _said Finn.

And the Lich laughed again, like everything about Finn was just so hilarious.

“_You’re so small, child,” _said the Lich.

Finn was instantly insulted. Sure, he hadn’t really grown a lot since he was thirteen. But he’d made up for it with pure badassery, right? Bonnie must have noticed that Finn had been working out.

“_There are things larger than me, Finn,” _said the Lich. _“I know you’ve seen them. In your nightmares. But not because you were special, child. It’s because you and every being in this world are connected to the wider universe.”_

Finn swallowed. He _had _seen creatures in his nightmares. And now he couldn’t stop thinking about them. Those horrifying faces with their mouths split open, three or four tongues spilling out. Five or six or seven eyes staring at him from dark corners. Impossible spines and too many limbs and faces liked boxes. Walls of flesh. Three-headed dogs. Giant creatures the size of skyscrapers that barfed fire and smoke from both ends.

“_Oh Grod,” _said Finn. _“Those are real? Oh _crease.”

And that _place. _That horrible place Finn used to see in his bad dreams. The place with the red cloudless sky and the deep unending pit filled with red-skinned monsters. Was that real too? Did that place exist somewhere? And what about the farm? The farm with the dog?

“_Yes, Finn,” _said the Lich. _“We exist across the tapestry of __many worlds__. And in every one of them, __I am there__. Every world falls silent and we are the last creatures standing. There is no reason for this, child. That is just how it is. __Wherever you go, there I am.”_

Finn tried to argue, but he knew it was true. And the Lich was right: there was no cosmic reason for it. That was just how it was. Finn had felt it in his bones when he first saw Billy—or what was left of Billy before the Lich got to him—peering at him from that closet. _Wherever you go, there I am. _It was the oldest truth in the universe.

“_Bring me the crown, Finn,” _said the Lich. _“The crown and the book. Bring them to me and I will release Jake. And the cycle completes.”_

Finn shut his eyes. He wished the Lich would get out of his head. He shouldn’t have touched Lich-Jake’s chest. But maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe the Lich was inside of him all along, like a disease. _The cycle completes._

He opened his eyes and shook his head. The first thing Finn noticed was that Lich-Jake’s eyes were wide open and staring right at him.

“No,” he said out loud. “Why—why would I do that? That would be totes, like, _banana-bread. _You’d toast all my friends for real.”

He spread his arms, his head suddenly clearing.

“Why would I do _anything _you say?” said Finn. “You’ve been lying to us since the beginning. And now you’re just dropping all this stuff on me and thinking I’ll be all totes blooby about it? What the _stuff, _dude?”

Finn groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Why does _everyone _think I’m an idiot?” said Finn. “Bonnie, Marcy, that Simon guy. They all think I’m some dumb kid who doesn’t know jack about nothing-anyhow. They can’t let me do anything without popping their lids.”

Finn realized that this had been simmering inside him for a while. Because it was all true, wasn’t it? No one trusted him to do anything. Even this guarding-Jake thing was the absolute bare minimum. And they didn’t even trust him enough to let him do it alone. If they’d had their way, they probably would have ejected him from the group entirely.

He stood up slowly, making sure his chair didn’t scrape across the floor. The last thing Finn needed was for Kara to wake up and point that shotgun at him. If Finn had been feeling braver, he would have snatched it. But Finn didn’t actually want or need a shotgun. Finn already had two of his best guys—his fists—ready for action. And a bunch of holy water and salt.

Finn snatched a book off the dresser. Rain had left one of her spellbooks—a tiny notebook full of basic spells—in the bedroom. She’d told Finn to use it if Lich-Jake woke up. Apparently there was a very simple spell in there that would keep Lich-Jake in place—for at least two minutes—if the seal broke and they needed to buy everyone some time to bail.

There was no problem Finn couldn’t solve with his fists, a small book of spells, some holy water, some graveyard dirt, some salt, and a pocketknife. That was a fact. And the current problem Finn was desperate to solve? Finding a way to save Jake before it was too late.

But Finn couldn’t tell anyone where he was going or what he was doing. They all thought Finn was a stupid kid. Well, he was going to show everyone. No, Finn wasn’t going to bring the Lich the crown _or _the book. That would have been massively stupid. But he _was _going to take Jake’s fate into his own hands and do something reckless. That was Finn’s brand.

Finn opened the bedroom door a crack and peeked out.

Bonnie, Marcy, Rain, and Peter were huddled around the kitchen table. They were whispering and looking at maps. Totally absorbed in their plan that was probably going to take forever. And they didn’t have _forever. _They had until Jake’s heart stopped beating.

“Oh, hey, dude.”

Finn grabbed his chest and cried out.

Betty was standing right by the door, her arms crossed. Finn had forgotten about her. He didn’t even think to wonder why she wasn’t part of the planning session. Or maybe she was, but she was keeping her distance for some reason.

“Hey, dude,” Betty repeated.

She’d been away for a long time. And she’d probably spent a little too much time hiding in caves and talking to Norman. Norman was nice, but he was kind of a weirdo and not the best conversation partner. The isolation had done something to Norman’s mind that Betty was still struggling to understand. Or maybe it was the isolation _and _the fact that—up until somewhat recently—he’d basically been possessed by a very old and very unfortunate curse that turned him into a huge jerk capable of linking his mind with the energies of the wider universe. Betty couldn’t tell whether her experiments had helped him or not.

“I, uh,” said Finn.

But Betty had already read the look on his face.

“Are you going to see Simon?” she said.

Finn would have sounded way more confident if his voice didn’t suddenly go up an octave.

“Ye-Yes?” he said.

Betty nodded.

“I’m coming with you,” said Betty.

Finn hesitated. Okay, so this probably wasn’t going to be a solo quest. He couldn’t really stop Betty from tagging along. And this might be his only chance to slip out of the house.

“This is for Jake,” said Finn.

Betty didn’t look like she particularly cared about who they were doing this for. As far as she was concerned, this was all for Simon. A massive portion of her entire _life _had been for Simon, Betty was realizing. Ever since the day he found that cursed crown, Betty’s existence had revolved around him.

This had to be some kind of cosmic sign. Betty’s go-ahead to take that one huge leap. If she didn’t save Simon now, her years of research and sacrifice had been for nothing. No one else could understand any of that. No one else knew what Betty had done—and was _going _to do—for Simon.

But maybe Finn understood? Maybe Finn had seen enough to realize how far she had to go. Obviously Finn would have done the same for Jake, right? Any of them would have, even if none of them would have admitted it. Finn and Betty were realists, Betty realized. Finn would have made a great scientist.

“Let’s go,” said Betty. “Let’s save your brother.”

She gripped Finn’s shoulder. The two of them were going to do amazing things together. Finn was going to help her fulfill a promise.


	15. Team-Building and Stuff

Finn kept glancing at Betty as they walked together. Was it wrong that Finn kind of liked Betty more than Bonnie?

Bonnie just wanted to sit around and make plans. Plans were awesome, but what was even the fucking point? Was Finn really the only one who understood what they were dealing with? The Lich wasn’t an enemy from one of Moe’s video games or a schoolyard bully.

Finn hugged himself and shuddered. _No. _Of course they didn’t understand. That coldness they all felt when the Lich was around, that encroaching darkness? It was different for them. Finn came out of the Lich’s mind games feeling like the universe had just sucked him up and spat him out. The Lich was right: Finn wasn’t _special._

“Hey Betty,” said Finn.

He bit his lip. Finn felt like he could ask Betty literally anything. The exact opposite of Bonnibel. Yeah, Finn loved Bonnie to pieces and she was probably the smartest person in the world. But Finn hated the way she looked at him sometimes. That slightly pitying smile when he asked a stupid question. But Betty looked like she didn’t have the energy to judge anyone.

“You think the Lich, like, came after Jake because of me?” said Finn.

They were almost to Simon’s house. Finn and Betty hadn’t said a word to each other for the first few minutes of the trip. Now they were about ten minutes in and Finn was finally breaking that unbearably awkward silence.

Betty glanced at Finn with a slightly surprised look on her face, like she forgot he was there. It was a little strange how much Finn reminded her of some of the guys she’d met in high school.

In response to Finn’s question, Betty shrugged.

“Maybe?” she said. “I don’t know.”

Finn shoved his hands in his pockets. _Glob. _Even Betty couldn’t give him a straight answer. It wasn’t even the question Finn wanted to ask. But the question he actually wanted to ask had so many layers that it was basically an incomprehensible mess. Everything swirling around in Finn’s brain was so much deeper than the Lich or Jake. All the existential stuff was getting tangled up in this supernatural bullshit.

“What if I’m, like, the only one who can fix all this bunk?” said Finn. “What if it’s what I’m supposed to do? My—my destiny?”

Betty adjusted her glasses and squinted at the road ahead of her. It was still foggy out.

“That’s bulldonk,” said Betty. “_I’m _the one whose going to fix all this bunk. Fix it _so _good.”

She clapped her hands together, a huge grin spreading across her face. She actually looked kind of maniacal. It was the grin of a woman who’d spent the last few years creeping through all the darkest corners of the world to find information on the supernatural. A woman who’d been broken into pieces, re-assembled, and wound up like a clockwork toy after her discovery of a hidden world. Finn could roll with this sudden shift—maybe because he’d always sort of believed in ghosts and stuff like that—but it must have knocked Betty off her feet.

Finn shook his head. He wanted to believe Betty. He really did. But the Lich had marked Finn as someone important, someone who had a role in all of this. Finn knew it was random, just a fluke of the universe. But even if it was random, Finn felt like he’d stumbled into what Jake would have called “magical destiny”.

After a few more minutes of awkward silence, Finn and Betty finally arrived at Simon’s house.

Betty paused outside the door, her hands trembling. She realized that she didn’t really want to do this. Betty had decided she wasn’t allowed to look at Simon’s face again until she figured out how to save him. And she _did _know how to save him, but she had no idea if it was going to work. Betty wanted to see his face, she wanted to know he was okay. But she was afraid of what might happen if she got too close and forgot why she was there.

Finn approached the closed door. More than anything else, Finn wanted to talk to Jake. He needed to know he was doing the right thing. Realistically, Finn was pretty sure Jake would have said _“Yeah, man. Do whatever” _about all of this. Jake was very much a _do whatever _brother and Finn appreciated that. But Finn was craving some of that delicious Jake wisdom.

He glanced at Betty. Should he trust her? Could Finn trust _anyone, _even if he thought they were the coolest person ever? Jake would have known. Jake had a knack for sniffing out skeevy people. But Betty didn’t feel skeevy, at least from Finn’s point of view. She felt like a sadder version of Bonnie.

“Oh donk,” Finn said.

There was a neatly folded piece of paper taped to the door. No name or anything. Finn grabbed it and carefully unfolded it.

“_Dear New Friends,” _Finn read. _“Ran to the store to pick up some milk. And more eggs! For __omelets__! TTYL. Simon.”_

Betty snatched the note out of Finn’s hand.

“What the _cr__onk?” _she said.

She scanned the first and second lines over and over again, inhaling every detail like she was absorbing Simon’s soul. Even after all those years, Betty still recognized Simon’s handwriting. She used to love getting little notes and letters from him, reading and re-reading his notes, proofreading his essays and checking for errors. Some of the sexiest nights they had started with Betty combing over one of Simon’s papers with a highlighter.

Finn expected a locked door, but it practically flew open by itself when he actually tried the doorknob. Simon must have left in a hurry. Finn couldn’t imagine a scenario in which someone like Simon forgot to lock up his house. He must have _really _wanted to get those omelets going before everyone met up.

He walked into the house. _Oh Grod. _It had been so long since the last time Finn was there. It felt like centuries. But he remembered those long hallways. If he concentrated, he could even map out the best way to the library.

Betty came in behind him, slamming the door shut. She was holding the note in her hand. Betty wanted to crumple it or rip it up, like that would somehow drop her off in a reality where Simon was running to greet her. Betty just wanted to see Simon’s face again. Was that really too much to ask? She didn’t care that he looked different, that he’d probably been more isolated than she was over those several years. Nothing could have made Betty not want to see Simon again.

“He’ll be back soon,” said Finn. “Totes McGoats.”

Betty whirled to stare at him, her eyes flashing with frustration. Betty would have preferred the sexy vampire lady or Kara if she had to choose a companion.

“He’s not getting milk, ya donk,” said Betty. “He’s _gone. _Hiding from the Lich. He thinks it knows where he is. But why?”

She made a beeline for the library. She’d never been in this house before, but she knew Simon’s patterns. The house was just an extension of self, a physical manifestation of the person who lived inside of it. To find anything she needed, Betty just needed to know Simon’s mind. And after all those years, Betty was pretty sure she knew Simon better than he knew himself.

This was actually a good thing, she told herself. If Betty had reunited with Simon, she would have been distracted. She would have lost sight of why she was there. Betty couldn’t afford a tidal wave of human emotion right now.

Finn followed Betty to the library, his heartbeat going nuts. _Oh Grod. _This had nothing to do with him, right? Had the Lich been prying around in Finn’s head? Maybe that was the only reason the Lich had been communicating with him specifically. Was Finn’s mind really that weak? So weak that the Lich could go in and root around in his thoughts like that?

Finn grabbed the front of his shirt and let out a long breath. If this was his fault, if Simon had been forced to leave because of him, that was all he needed to know. Finn really needed to fix this gronked up shit.

But what if everyone got hurt because Finn wasn’t there to protect any of them? Finn didn’t know where or how he was needed anymore. Was he better off sticking with his friends or did just being around them put him in danger? Finn was scared of the answers to those questions.

* * *

This was hands-down the most messed up plan Bonnie had ever proposed. But like most messed up plans, she was going with it because she didn’t have an alternative.

Right now she was talking everyone through the logistics with Peter. Planning out a route for getting Lich-Jake out of Marcy’s house and to where they needed to go without attracting unwanted attention. There were some “rogue hunters” in the area, Peter explained. People who would have wanted to snatch Lich-Jake and dispose of him their own way.

“This is bonkers-banana-balls,” said Marcy.

Bonnie folded the map and shrugged. Yes, Marcy was right. This whole things was totes blooby-bonkers-banana-balls. But that was what made this plan so awesome. It was the last thing the Lich would expect.

“It’s _science, _Marceline,” said Bonnie.

She flinched. Saying that out loud felt like blasphemy. No, this was everything _but _science. This was supernatural bullshit piled on top of vague speculation. Every scientist Bonnie knew would have been scandalized. But Bonnie had evolved past the bounds of traditional science and she was still trying to cope with this brave new world.

“And you trust Peter?” said Marcy.

She thought the little guy was kind of creepy. And that meant a lot coming from a _vampire._

Bonnie was putting her hair up in a manageable ponytail.

“Of course I bunking trust him,” said Bonnie. “I’ve known him for years.”

Logically, that was a crappy reason to trust someone. Bonnie hadn’t really _known _Peter for years. She knew his persona, the act he put on when he wasn’t hunting demons or whatever it was he did during those long creepy nights. But how much of that was an act?

“It’s not like we’ve got a choice,” Bonnie said.

She chewed her lip. There _was _a choice. It was something that had been building in Bonnie’s head for the past few hours. If she wanted, she could have just left. She could have walked or driven right out of town. Bonnie had other relatives. She could have stayed with them, hiding out and waiting for the world to end. This was the perfect time to bail.

But Bonnie stayed where she was, stuffing the map into her backpack and waiting for the others. _Screw it. _If the world was going to end, Bonnie wanted to go out fighting with her best buddies. And yes, she was including Marcy in that.

Peter came out of the bedroom.

“Uh, quick question,” he said. “Where’s Finn?”

Marcy flipped over in midair and turned to Bonnie, a concerned frown on her face.

“Bathroom?” said Marcy.

It was impossible to keep track of anyone in this house. The interior was so small, but there were dozens of nooks and crannies that no one ever checked until someone went missing. Marcy hadn’t been paying attention to Finn because she assumed he would stay with Jake. That was just garden variety common sense.

Peter looked around.

“And Betty’s gone too,” he said. “Oh dear.”

Bonnie froze, her hand hovering over her backpack. _Oh Glob. _Of course no one was keeping an eye on Betty. She was an adult, a scientist capable of making her own decisions. But _Finn? _Finn, the teenager who loved charging headfirst into danger? Bonnie should have tied him to a chair.

Rain was sitting on the couch, her hands shaking as she tried to pack. If anything had happened to Finn, she would have been able to sense it. But Rain couldn’t stop that cold hollow feeling in her gut. If something happened to Finn because she wasn’t there, Jake would be devastated.

“We should split up,” said Rain. “Me and Kara will look for Finn.”

Kara walked out of the bedroom, nervously rubbing the back of her neck. She’d torn the room apart searching for Finn, convinced he was hiding in the closet or something. Because even Finn wasn’t stupid enough to just leave his possessed brother. Clearly Kara had underestimated the power of Finn’s idiocy and teenage recklessness. Kara had been so different when she was a teenager. More composed and responsible. Kara needed to remember that her childhood hadn’t exactly been standard.

Bonnie raised her eyebrows at Rain.

“That’s totes banyangles,” said Bonnie. “We need to stay together.”

Rain slumped. She knew Bonnie was right. The Lich was piloting Jake, but it was impossible to know what the Lich was capable of if they didn’t stick together.

Peter rubbed his temples. And this was why he didn’t like teenagers. Peter could barely remember his teenage years, but he’d definitely been a reckless idiot. His lust for the paranormal had caused him to make some regrettable decisions. Peter didn’t like to think about all the contracts he was juggling.

“So what do we do?” said Kara.

Peter grabbed his gloves from the coffee table.

“The gate’s been opened,” said Peter. “We can expect to see more _things _around Candace now. The Lich is going to be the least of our worries very soon.”

Rain shuddered. She could already feel it. That shift in the air, her increased heartbeat. _Things _were swarming all over Candace like flies chasing honey. Most of them probably weren’t there specifically because of the Lich, but they were definitely more active than usual.

Bonnie raised her arms, exasperated.

“So everything’s just gonna be blonking nutso now?” said Bonnie. “What the _crease, _you guys?”

Peter adjusted his gloves.

“This place has always been a hub, Bonnibel,” said Peter. “A pocket of supernatural activity. You must have noticed it.”

Bonnie wrapped her arms around herself and looked away. If she was being completely honest? She _hadn’t _noticed it. Bonnie was too busy messing around with science to notice anything that wasn’t one of her experiments blowing up in her face. How many vital discoveries had she ignored? Was this whole thing Bonnie’s punishment for being so narrow-minded and focused on her nerd hobbies?

Marcy wrapped her arm around Bonnie’s shoulders and pulled her close.

“Guess it’s time to toast some buns,” she said.

Bonnie leaned into Marcy. Marcy wasn’t soft or warm, but she was sturdy. She was probably the only thing keeping Bonnie upright. Bonnie’s entire perception of the world around her was constantly falling apart, but at least Marcy stayed the same.


	16. Family Secrets and Stuff

Finn watched Betty pulling books off shelves. She called it “research”, but it kind of just looked like she was making a huge mess for no reason.

Finn was perched on a stack of massive encyclopedias like a bird. Normally he would have been super pissed if someone told him to “sit down and not touch anything”, but his faith in Betty was seriously screwing with his emotions. It was sort of bizarre. He barely knew her, yet he had this enormous amount of faith in her. She hadn’t even told him her idea. What was Finn’s deal? Why did he believe—with zero evidence—that Betty was actually going to save all of them?

Maybe it was because she was doing what Finn had wanted to do all along? Actually doing _something, _instead of sitting around and making plans and waiting for things to happen. And she wasn’t dismissing Finn like he was the weakest member of the team. Betty had no idea how much both of those things meant to a scared and confused teenager.

“Glob, Glob, Glob,” Betty muttered as she worked.

Whatever she was looking for, it must have been buried deep in Simon’s personal collection. Betty had grabbed about fifty books by now, skimmed pretty much every single one in a few minutes—speed reading—and ended up tossing them all into the growing pile on the floor.

Finn squirmed in his makeshift seat. _Crap. _Bonnie and the others were going to notice they were gone, right? And then it was _blah blah blah _all over again. Another pointless lecture about being a team player and not running away.

He sighed. Bonnie was never going to get it, was she? Bonnie was never going to get _anything. _She didn’t understand why Finn had a crush on her, she didn’t understand why he would run away with a stranger, and she didn’t understand that Finn wasn’t a dumb kid. Bonnie was too busy nerding out to care about any of that stuff.

“Dude, she’s totes not into you,” said Betty.

Finn leaned forward on his pile of books.

“What?” he said.

Betty grabbed an unusually thick book from bottom shelf. Finn caught a glimpse of the title as she eased it off the shelf: _Malignis Intentus Volumen Tertium__. _Finn had no idea what that meant, but it sounded ominous.

“That girl,” said Betty. “Bonnibel, right?”

Finn shifted uncomfortably. _“She’s totes not into you.” _That was exactly what Rain had said. And Moe. And Kara. Pretty much the only person who seemed to believe in Finn’s love life was Jake. Forever-supportive Jake, encouraging Finn to “save the princess from the castle” and various other video game metaphors.

He knew it was true. Finn told himself that age was just a number. And Bonnie liked him, right? She liked hanging out with him and she gave him advice. They had a nice little relationship. But in Bonnie’s eyes, Finn was just a silly kid with his silly kid problems and his silly kid crush. The one time she treated him like an adult, it was when he tagged along as back-up for a visit with her uncles. And that ended horribly because of a stupid pudding prank. In Finn’s defense, that prank was hilarious and Bonnie shouldn’t have freaked out like that. He didn’t understand why she was so pissed at him for trying to break the tension.

Finn chewed his lip. Pulling dumb pranks at dinner parties was totally not Bonnie’s style. Maybe older people were, well, _different. _Bonnie saw him as a younger brother because he acted like one.

“Aw, nuts,” said Finn. “You’re right.”

Betty was sitting cross-legged on the floor. She looked up from the book and raised her eyebrow at him. Of course she hadn’t heard any of that internal monologue. From her view, Finn had just gone weirdly silent for a few minutes after she asked him a question. Betty didn’t even care about Finn’s love life. But given what she had with Simon, she thought it was about time she hit the poor kid with some reality. Finn was living in a fantasy world and Betty felt like someone needed to spell it out for him.

Finn pulled out his phone and checked his messages. Nothing from Bonnie or anyone else. They must have realized that Finn wasn’t going to check his phone. Or maybe they were too busy following up with their own plan? Either way, Finn sort of wished he hadn’t ditched all of them. But it was their own fault, he told himself. Why couldn’t they have listened to _him _for once? Why was Finn always the muscle and never the planner? Didn’t they trust him to not do something horrendously stupid if Jake’s life was on the line?

He did a quick Internet search for _“Simon Petrikov”. _Finn had done this earlier—just a precaution—and the results were basically the same: academic journals, some news articles, university staff pages. Simon had credentials. If it wasn’t for the whole magical ailment thing, he could have taught at any university or engrossed himself in any obscure research project. This whole thing he was going through _was _kind of a research project, but the absolute worst kind.

The Internet had nothing about exorcism or the Lich. Finn found some fringe conspiracy websites and an independent blog about “snake people”, neither of which really helped. The entire world—or at least the online world—seemed oblivious to the existence of demons, ghosts, and vampires as anything more than urban legends. Finn couldn’t even believe half the stories he found about “encounters”. If anyone had legitimately stumbled across an actual demon or ghost, the records had been scrubbed from the Internet’s most populated social media websites. Any mention of The Enchiridion talked about the book as if it was a legend or an obscure work of fiction.

Finn slumped in his seat. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but he thought the Internet would at least have something cool. He was tired of playing the sidekick role and waiting for someone else—Betty or Bonnie or Marcy—to find all that juicy info. Why was Finn always the one who ended up standing around and waiting for _other people _to do all the information gathering? Was it just because Finn didn’t know twenty languages and he wasn’t good at speed-reading?

Finn hopped off the pile. If he couldn’t be a nerd like Bonnie or Betty or Simon, it was time for Finn to put his faith in something he _could _do: fighting. Finn had been fighting since he was eleven years old and he was pretty good at it.

“Don’t worry, Betty,” said Finn. “I’ll protect you.”

Betty looked up from her book, a bored look on her face.

“Huh?” she said.

Finn was remembering all the stuff he saw in that room full of artifacts. There had to be at least one weapon in there, right? A magic knife or something. How had Simon protected himself all those years? There was no way Marcy was just tailing him 24/7. So Simon probably had a stash of demon-slaying weapons.

“Hey, does Simon have, like, something to toast demon buns?” said Finn.

Betty turned her attention back to her book, already checking out of this strange conversation. Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut about Bonnie.

“He’s got a sword made of demon blood,” said Betty. “Not sure where he got that mama-jamma. Didn’t you see it mounted in his lab?”

Finn’s eyes lit up. A demon blood sword? That sounded like the most badass thing ever. Finn wasn’t sure what demon blood was going to do against an actual _demon, _but it sounded like something worth having. Things were about to get totally insane and they needed a back-up plan. And Finn was ready to be that back-up plan, even if no one asked him to do it.

He ran out of the library. Swords just happened to be something Finn was good at. He used to take fencing classes and he was pretty amazing at it. Finn only stopped because Jake lost his job—_again–_and couldn’t afford it anymore. But fencing was the kind of thing you never forgot how to do, right? Like riding a bike. And sword-fighting was basically just a more dangerous version of fencing.

Simon’s lab was probably supposed to be locked, but the door was wide open and the stairs looked unusually inviting. Finn took that as a sign. The universe was telling him that this was what he was supposed to be doing. This was what Finn brought to the table.

The sword was mounted right there on the wall. Finn wasn’t sure how he missed it the first time he was in the lab. He might have glimpsed it, but there was so much going on back then. Finn wondered what other cool stuff he’d missed.

He gently eased the sword off the wall. It was heavier than he expected. But swords were always heavier than they looked, or at least that was what the Internet said. Finn was relieved that his second job involved so much heavy lifting.

Finn’s heart was thumping in his chest. This was it. This was how he was going to make a difference. Betty and Bonnie had their science, Kara was great at lifting heavy stuff, Rain was amazing at magic, and Peter had all of his demon knowledge. But Finn? Finn was a fighter. The last line of defense. This sword was going to be the thing that saved Jake’s life. Finn could feel it in his bones, like a premonition.

The moment he touched the sword, Finn had this weird feeling of familiarity. It was like he’d done this before. But Finn knew that wasn’t possible. He’d never seen this sword in his entire life. Finn definitely would have remembered. So why did Finn feel like he was holding an old friend?

He flipped the sword over and examined the other side. Finn had expected something more dramatic and badass. The sword was pretty awesome, but it wasn’t pulsing with power or whispering to him. It was just a red sword. It almost looked like a theater prop. If Finn hadn’t been gently touching the blade, he would have thought it was made of cheap plastic and glue.

There was a name carved into the blade. Finn had to squint to read it. The penmanship was kind of terrible. The name almost looked like an imperfection at first, a weird fluke of design.

_Joshua. _That was the name carved into the sword in rough jerky letters. _Joshua._

Finn’s skin was starting to crawl. _What the __crease__? _It had to be a coincidence. Had to be. But Finn remembered that weird feeling of familiarity when he touched the sword. He’d brushed it off at first because he was tired. But seeing the name was bringing it all back. Finn had never seen that sword before. Finn was completely sure of that. Bonnie would have come up with an amazing scientific explanation about why Finn had that feeling. Something about false memories and his brain sending the wrong signals. But how could Bonnie’s science explain the name?

“Joshua”. Finn and Jake’s dad. This sword belonged to Finn and Jake’s dad.

* * *

Betty had the book open on the floor, circling a specific passage with her finger. She chewed her lip, reading over the paragraph again. Betty was sure she had what she wanted. But there was a language barrier. _Of course _there was a language barrier.

Betty’s hand was shaking. _No. _She wasn’t giving up. She wasn’t throwing her opportunity away just because some asshole thought it would be funny to write the most cryptic paragraph in history. Betty understood why it was so cryptic and why it was written in a completely different language. Everything else in the book was either Latin or Hebrew, but this particular paragraph was written in ancient Sumerian. A language Betty wasn’t intimately familiar with.

“Son of a blee-blop!” Betty said.

She hung her head, breathing heavily with her fists clenched. So the translation was going to take longer than she thought. That was fine. Betty had all the time she needed. The person who wrote that paragraph hadn’t predicted two very important things: the Internet and Betty’s big brain.

At the very least, Betty knew she wasn’t losing her mind. There _was _a way. A way to fix everything. The ritual she’d been searching for was right in front of her. The only minor hiccup was the fact that Simon was missing. But that was just a bump. Simon was coming back. And Betty was finally going to save him.

But she needed to do this correctly. One screw-up was all it would take. Betty was meddling with forces beyond her understanding. If she’d told the others what she was trying to do, they would have called her insane. They would have tried to stop her. But Betty had never been more sane in her entire life. Her head had never been so clear.

There was a sketch at the bottom of the page. It was crude and probably inaccurate. An imagined representation of a creature beyond the comprehension of the average brain. Fortunately, Betty had passed the average brain stage when she was in middle school. And she’d passed the threshold of supernatural fuckery when she was in college.

“Oh Grod,” Betty said.

She noticed that Finn was missing, but she didn’t really care. Finn was willing to do whatever it took to save Jake. How could anyone fault Betty for being the same way with Simon?


	17. Romance and Stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Pride Month! Have some Bubbline.

Leaving Finn and Betty behind was maybe the worst idea, but they didn’t really have a choice.

“Are you _sure _they’ll be cool on their own?” Rain kept saying.

She’d packed everything they could potentially need: amulets, salt, graveyard dirt, a small notebook of emergency spells, holy water, and a few small charms she whipped up with stuff she found around Marcy’s house. Rain was officially on Lich duty. She had to make sure the Lich didn’t bake their beans before they got it out of Jake’s body.

“Dude, they’ll be fine,” said Marcy. “Have you _seen _us? We’re strong as heck. I mean, Bonnie’s not even dead yet.”

Bonnie patted her bicep. She didn’t look like much, but she’d been working out lately. Just some basic stuff. Strong body, strong mind.

“Yep,” she said. “I’m pretty lumping impressive, huh?”

Marcy put her hand over the one resting on Bonnie’s bicep. She grinned at how flustered Bonnie got just from that little touch. _Oh Grod. _Bonnie was literally the most adorable woman in Candace.

“Heck yes, Bonnibel,” said Marcy.

Bonnie yanked her hand away, her face burning with embarrassment. _Geez. _Didn’t Marcy know it was totally uncool to just _touch her _like that? You needed to give someone a warning before violating their personal space. Basic common sense shit. Not that Bonnie really _minded _Marcy touching her. But she didn’t understand why her body was reacting so strongly. Kara had touched Bonnie’s hand earlier and Bonnie had been perfectly okay. What was so special about Marceline?

Bonnie touched the window. What _wasn’t _special about Marcy? After all, Marcy was a fucking vampire. That was already pretty special. Bonnie had studied the human body before—often on willing living subjects—but Marcy’s physical makeup was a total mystery. Did she have a working digestive system? Was there a limit to her floating ability? When she shapeshifted, did the changes effect her internal organs?

They’d stuffed themselves into Peter’s car less than ten minutes ago and Bonnie was already feeling the lack of space. She also felt really bad for Jake. Sure, that thing _wasn’t _Jake right now. But she still felt bad about tying the guy up and shoving him in the trunk like that. Bonnie assured everyone that the Lich would prevent Jake from suffocating—it needed Jake’s body—but they couldn’t risk getting too close to him. Plus there was no room in the car.

Rain was in the front seat with Peter. Kara, Marcy, and Bonnie were squeezed into the back, Kara sitting next to the window and Marcy squashed into the middle. Bonnie was way closer to Marcy than she wanted to be. If Marcy had had a heartbeat, Bonnie would have been able to feel it.

“Hey!” said Marcy.

She snapped her fingers in front of Bonnie’s face.

“You’re staring again,” she said.

Bonnie immediately snapped out of it. _Aw nuts. _She’d been doing it again. Staring intensely at Marcy without saying anything. That had to be the fourth time today. Bonnie was going into full science mode.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” said Bonnie. “Just thinking too much.”

Marcy rolled her eyes.

“Geez,” she said. “At least buy me dinner first.”

Bonnie suddenly grabbed Marcy’s arm, startling both of them. This time it was Marcy who blushed at the sudden touch. Bonnie noticed and took note of the reaction. Mainly Bonnie was wondering how vampires could blush, but that was a question for another day. Although if she took off her science cap for a moment, Bonnie had to admit that she loved seeing Marcy’s pale white cheeks glow with embarrassment.

“Oh, hecks yes!” said Bonnie. “We should totes have dinner.”

Marcy pulled her arm away from Bonnie, her eyebrows raised. She swept her long hair out of her face, resisting the urge to cover her entire face so no one would notice how red she was. _Crap. _Thank Glob she didn’t have a heartbeat. Bonnie would have heard it.

“Um, I was joking?” said Marcy.

Bonnie slumped in her seat. There was no way this was safe, but Bonnie doubted vampires needed seatbelts. Or maybe they did. Bonnie really didn’t know anything about how vampires worked. And that pissed her off a little. Was this how people felt when they discovered a brand new species of insect with unusual mating patterns? Bonnie didn’t even know if vampires _had _mating patterns, if they experienced sexual attraction, if they _cared _about people the same way humans did….

“Marcy, you were human once, right?” said Bonnie.

Marcy was visibly surprised—and kind of disappointed—by the abrupt change of subject, but she just went with the flow.

“Nope,” said Marcy. “Well, maybe. But it had to have been a long time ago. I don’t remember.”

She dragged a hand through her long hair. The windows were tinted so she wasn’t wearing her big hat. She had her hair up in a ponytail. Marcy had this strange feeling that Bonnie thought she looked cute, but Bonnie didn’t want to say it because she knew how Marcy would react. Marcy couldn’t read minds or anything like that, but she’d seen how Bonnie looked at her.

“I remember my mom,” said Marcy. “She used to sing to me.”

She closed her eyes. The song was coming back to her. But of course it never left. It was always in the back of her mind, an infinite lullaby. Even as the memory of her mom’s voice slowly faded, Marcy still remembered that song. She remembered the feel of her mom’s hand through her hair, the warmth of a human body so close to hers. It was the only thing that comforted Marcy when she couldn’t sleep.

“_Let’s go in the garden,” _Marcy sang. _“You’ll find something waiting. Right there where you left it, lying upside down.”_

She opened her eyes and blushed. _Crap. _She didn’t mean to do that. Just singing out loud in front of a bunch of people, most of whom she barely knew? Really embarrassing. Marcy wasn’t usually shy about singing around people. But this song was special to her. She felt like she’d opened up a part of herself.

Bonnie swallowed. _Wow. _She forgot how awesome Marcy’s voice was. It was so soft and deep and emotional. Bonnie didn’t like admitting it, but she loved when Marcy burst into song when they were working the late shift at the pizza place. Something about Marcy’s voice made those late nights better.

“That was beautiful,” said Bonnie.

Marcy grinned.

“Aw, thanks, Bon-Bon,” said Marcy. “Didn’t know you were my biggest fan.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes and folded her arms, turning to stare out the window. _Ugh. _Why did Marcy have to ruin the moment _every time? _It was like Bonnie couldn’t just say something nice without it getting weird or awkward. Did Marcy haveto turn everything into a joke?

“Totes, Marceline,” said Bonnie.

Marcy laughed, gently rubbing Bonnie’s shoulder. Bonnie didn’t pull away, indicating that she wasn’t really pissed at Marcy. Marcy was pretty sure Bonnie couldn’t be pissed at her if she tried. And maybe at some point, Marcy _had _been trying to piss Bonnie off. But they were past that. Task failed successfully.

“Dude, I’m kidding,” said Marcy. “Geez, Bonnie, you’re such a _nerd.”_

She paused, resting her hand on Bonnie’s shoulder. Was this really the best time to be having this discussion? But then again, when _was _the best time? After they—hopefully–saved Jake from the Lich? What was even supposed to happen after that? They went back to their boring lives working at the pizza place? Marcy was sure that Bonnie wanted that. A nice peaceful pizza-filled existence. School, friends, maybe some science on the side.

“And—and I totes wanna get dinner with you,” said Marcy. “So we can do that—do that _love study _or whatevs.”

Bonnie rested her head on Marcy’s shoulder. She thought being this close to a vampire would be off-putting. And the lack of body heat definitely took some getting used to. But Bonnie focused on the closeness. Just like ninety-percent of normal human beings, Bonnie _needed _the closeness.

“Yeah,” said Bonnie. “I’d love that. It’d be—it’d be pretty donking okay.”

Bonnie and Marcy didn’t have a lot of time to linger in their soft little moment. And Kara didn’t have a lot of time to feel uncomfortable in her third wheel status as she desperately tried not to hear what was happening less than an inch away from her face.

Peter slammed on the breaks, bringing the car to a screeching halt.

“Oh _plops,” _he said.

There was a person standing in the middle of the road. The person turned their head very slowly, barely flinching as Peter’s car came within inches of totally obliterating them. They were tall and willowy. Definitely taller than Peter. They had messy hair dyed a light shade of green. They seemed to be wearing a hoodie, a pair of jeans, and boots. As the car screeched to a halt in front of them, they slammed their palms down on the hood and stared through the windshield.

“What the _crease, _my dude?” they said.

Peter sighed in frustration and hung his head.

“Oh _Grod,” _he said. “What did Daniel tell you?”

The green-haired person crossed their arms. Their eyes were the deepest and most beautiful shade of green Bonnie had ever seen in her entire life. Whoever this person was, Bonnie noticed that they had a bow and a quiver of arrows strapped to their back.

“He told me you’ve got total poo brain,” they said. “Come on, dude. Have you totally lost it? Is this a plomping joke?”

Peter massaged his temples. Daniel. _Daniel. Of course _it was Daniel. Fucking snitch Daniel. Peter couldn’t even be mad. It was his own fault for trusting Daniel with sensitive information. He knew this was going to happen. He was just hoping to outrun the inevitable. He wanted to get this done before Daniel blabbed.

“I can handle it,” said Peter. _“We _can handle it.”

He sighed.

“This is Hollyhock,” he said. “She’s a hunter like me.”

Kara immediately raised her arms and started waving to get Hannah’s attention, a welcoming grin on her face.

“Hi Hollyhock!” she said. “So nice to meet you.”

Hollyhock nodded curtly, leaning against the hood of the car like they were having a casual conversation. This was the closest to a normal conversation she’d ever had with another hunter. This was the first time in ages that Hollyhock actually had to physically track someone down. Daniel was so annoying, but he had some good tips.

“You can’t _handle _the Lich, man,” said Hollyhock. “Remember Abadeer? Your _donking promise?”_

Peter gripped the steering wheel like it was anchoring him to this plane of existence. _Crap. _He was hoping no one would bring that up. And he’d been doing pretty good about that because hardly anyone knew about his past. No one—not even his fellow hunters—knew about exactly what happened.

Bonnie leaned forward, grabbing the back of Rain’s seat.

“What promise?” she said. “What about Abadeer?”

Peter pretended to laugh like it wasn’t a big deal, but Bonnie could see the beads of sweat on his forehead. _Oh Glob. _He’d been holding off on having this conversation. He realized that he’d been holding off on at least a dozen conversations with Bonnie. He claimed it was “letting her have her own life”. In reality, Peter was just scared of how their dynamic would change. But it was a little too late for that, right? Bonnie was never going to view him the same way again. And Peter needed her full trust.

“Oh, it’s—it’s nothing,” said Peter. “I kind of just, well, promised your uncle Gerald and your aunt Lily that I would look after you? And maybe protect you from all the scary supernatural baddies? But—but I was going to tell you!”

Bonnie let go of the back of Rain’s seat. She fell back into her seat, her face totally blank as she struggled to process what Peter had said.

Bonnie hadn’t seen Aunt Lily or Uncle Gerald in years. She’d left home the second she had enough money. It was a surprisingly easy decision to make. Did she miss them? Sometimes she missed drinking hot cocoa by the fireplace and tinkering in her bedroom by the light of her phone. But Bonnie didn’t really miss _them. _Bonnie had gone no-contact with Uncle Gerald before she left the house, if she was being honest with herself. And he’d barely talked to her, other than suggesting that her brother Ned be moved to a care facility and Bonnie agreeing because she didn’t want to fight.

“Did Uncle Gerald tell you not to tell me?” said Bonnie.

Peter nervously chewed his bottom lip.

“Yes,” he said. “He said you wouldn’t be able to handle it. It was better—he said—if you did your little science projects and didn’t worry about anything except your grades.”

Bonnie clutched her knees, letting out a bitter laugh. Her grades? Her _grades? _As if Uncle Gerald gave a crap about her grades. He encouraged her to drop out of school, tried to get her involved with a guy to distract her from her dreams, even suggested she drink alcohol because it would make her more “fun” and “easy to be around”. Of course Uncle Gerald cared about her grades when it was convenient for him. He cared about her grades when he could use them to control her.

Marcy touched Bonnie’s shoulder, trying to bring her back.

“Hey Bonnibel?” said Marcy. “You chill?”

Bonnie lifted her head.

“Thanks, Peter,” she said. “Thanks for being honest with me.”

Hollyhock pounded the hood with her fists, snatching everyones’ attention. Did they all forget why she was there? Hollyhock didn’t give two beans about whatever family drama Peter had entangled himself in. Hollyhock had enough of that on her end.

“Have you _seen _what’s happening in Candace?” said Hollyhock. “It’s banyangles out there. You really think you can handle it by yourself? You really think you and a bunch of randos can deal with any of this without getting your hams baked?”

She grabbed her bow and loaded an arrow into it. She tapped the tip of the arrow against the hood, looking directly into Peter’s tired eyes.

“Scrunch over,” she said. “I’m coming with you guys.”

Peter weighed his options. He could always drive off and leave her there. How was she going to stop him? Peter already had his dream team. But Hollyhock was right: there was bad stuff going down in Candace. And even though they were heading out of the danger zone—or at least what Peter perceived as the “danger zone”–they weren’t the only ones.

“Can you do me a favor?” said Peter. “Just a little one.”

He hoped Hollyhock’s tracking skills were as good as she said they were. Because she was the only hunter he could trust with this.


	18. Old Houses and Stuff

Finn fiddled with the tip of the sword, his brow furrowed in concentration. He kept going over the name name in his head: _Joshua. Joshua._

It could have been some other Joshua. A coincidence. There had to be at least a billion people on Earth named Joshua. And at least one of them had to have a badass sword that just happened to end up with Simon, right?

Finn bit his lip. Okay, but what was the chance that _this sword _ended up in _this house _and Finn just_ happened _to find it? Pretty high actually. Stranger things had happened. The last few days had been a barrage of stranger things. Why not throw something even more batshit on top of the pile? There was no reason for Finn to be freaking out over a sword.

He raised his head. Finn was sitting on an armchair in the library, the sword in his lap. Finn realized he’d been staring at the sword for at least ten minutes. Betty must have been getting worried about what was going on in his brain.

If Betty _was _worried, she had a weird way of showing it. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor a few feet away, her back to Finn as she fiddled with some random bits of machinery.

Betty had discovered some old broken laptops in a random upstairs closet. She’d spent the last hour taking them apart, along with the microwave and a flip phone she had on her. She seemed to be building something. And whatever she was building, it apparently involved the hat she’d taken from Norman and that weird book she’d found in Simon’s library.

Finn cleared his throat. He really didn’t understand any of this. Betty had made such a big deal about taking him along. Why was she acting like he didn’t exist? And wasn’t Simon going to be totally pissed off when he found out about the microwave?

“You okay?” said Finn.

Betty raised her voice, but she didn’t seem to be talking to him.

“Science, magic, science, magic,” she was saying. “Science, magic, science, magic. Yes. Yes. _Yes. _Got you, ya butt.”

Finn shrank back into his armchair. He needed some fresh air. He’d been cooped up in Simon’s weird creepy house for too long. Finn thought he was doing Betty a favor, that he was helping her fix everything. But he wasn’t really needed here, was he? Finn wasn’t a scientist. He was just a kid with a sword. A kid with a sword waiting for a monster to show up so he could play hero. What about Jake? How was any of this helping Jake? Finn hoped Betty knew what she was doing.

He hopped out of his seat, the sword clutched awkwardly in both hands. Time to check the perimeter. Finn was probably better off patrolling. There was nothing particularly dangerous inside Simon’s house. The place was practically a fortress.

Finn left the library and walked into the yard. He let the front door close behind him. Finn hoped the noise would alert Betty that he’d left, but he somehow doubted she heard anything. She was too wrapped up in whatever she was doing.

Standing on the front porch, Finn shook his head. Betty was so strange. She was almost exactly like Bonnie, except smarter and sadder. Finn finally understood why Bonnie wasn’t interested in someone like him. It wasn’t just the age difference. Nerds like Bonnie and Betty were just _different. _They wanted different things. Betty wanted someone cool and dorky like Simon. And Bonnie wanted, well, _someone else._

Finn held the sword above his head, letting out a frustrated cry. It was _stupid. _It was all so donking _stupid._

“Nice knife.”

Finn almost dropped the sword. With his bad luck, he probably would have lost an arm or at least some toes. Fortunately, Finn’s grip was excellent and years of working heavy jobs had made him unlearn all that clumsiness.

He spun towards the voice, swinging the sword in an awkward arc as if he was about to throw it. Finn hadn’t really thought about how unwieldy a giant sword was going to be. He was a strong kid, but those things weighed a lot and he couldn’t really brandish it the same way he could have done with a knife. Finn nearly toppled over just trying to keep his grip on it. Maybe he would have been better off with a more modern weapon.

A girl was perched on the edge of the roof like a bird. She had green hair, a bow strapped to her back, and a quiver of arrows. She raised a hand in greeting.

“Hey,” she said.

Finn tried to point the sword at her, but he ended up almost pitching forward as the tip nose-dived into the grass. He probably should have gone for less flair with that one.

“Who the donk are you?” said Finn.

He attempted to look intimidating, but Finn was pretty sure he looked like a high school kid in theater class. He was wearing ripped jeans, he’d missed out on at least two growth spurts, and he was holding a _sword. _The image was too absurd and comical to be scary.

The girl jumped off the roof. Her landing was perfect, as if she jumped off roofs all the time.

“Nice knife,” she said again.

Finn blushed. He shifted the sword’s position a little so it would be easier to swing. It occurred to Finn that he had never killed anyone before. He’d gotten into fights, but actually wielding a weapon with the intent to kill? That was brand new to him. Finn wondered how much blood came out of a body after it was decapitated. Did the blood stop? Or was it just blood forever, an endless waterfall of blood? Finn didn’t want to find out.

The girl seemed to know what Finn was thinking.

“Trust me, you’re not getting me before I get you,” said the girl. _“_I got hawk eyes, dude. I see everything.”

Finn squinted and took a step back.

“You, like, here to roast Simon’s nuts?” said Finn. “Because he’s not here.”

The girl laughed.

“Peter sent me to check up on you,” she said. “Name’s Hollyhock. Guess I’m your babysitter now?”

Finn’s concern immediately turned into indignation. Hollyhock couldn’t have been much older than him. She might have even been the exact same age. Finn was starting to think that this wasn’t about him being the youngest in the group. This was about _him. _It was about Finn as a person.

“Wait, you’re a hunter?” said Finn. “You fight demons and junk?”

Hollyhock shrugged.

“I _track _demons and junk,” said Hollyhock. “It’s totes banyangles out in the woods, man. Stuff you wouldn’t even believe. It’s like another world.”

Finn gripped the handle of the sword. His palms were starting to hurt. But he couldn’t let go. If this really was a part of his family, it was Finn’s legacy. It was a family heirloom. Finn and Jake didn’t have a lot of those.

“Have you ever seen _this _before?” said Finn.

He took the sword in his arms and held it out towards her. Finn would have preferred grilling Simon about this, but Hollyhock was currently the only person he could ask. Better minds than his needed to fill in those gaps.

Hollyhock squinted at the sword, studying the name carved into it. She gently touched the name with the tip of her finger, carefully tracing each letter.

“Oh _crease,” _said Hollyhock. “Is this demon blood? Where the heck did you get this?”

Finn told her about all the strange artifacts Simon had in the house and how he’d found the sword.

Hollyhock dragged a hand through her hair and shook her head.

“That’s _banana bread, _dude,” she said. “Your dad was a hunter?”

Finn felt like he should have left that part out. It was _his _family history. Finn barely knew anything about his family. And beyond that, Finn knew even less about his biological family. He had to keep reminding himself that Jake was his _adopted _brother. Of course it didn’t matter. Jake and his parents and Jermaine were the only family Finn had ever known and the only family he _wanted _to know. But it would have been nice to understand exactly where he came from.

Finn swallowed. _Oh Glob. Jermaine. _How was Finn going to explain this to his barely-seen other brother? Jermaine wasn’t going to believe any of this. He’d probably want to drive down there and figure out what was really going on. For the first time, Finn was actually glad that Jermaine hardly ever reached out to Finn or Jake. Jermaine was safe.

“I don’t know?” said Finn. “Jake always said our parents were private investigators.”

Did Jake know about this? Had Jake been keeping Finn in the dark this whole time? No, Jake wouldn’t do that. Jake could be an asshole sometimes, but he was terrible at keeping secrets. Margaret and Joshua—their parents—must have been lying to them both.

“You wanna find out?” said Hollyhock.

Finn lifted his head. _Did he _want to find out? Of course he wanted to know the truth. But what if Margaret and Joshua had a good reason for keeping the truth hidden from their kids? Wasn’t Finn kind of disrespecting their memory if he started snooping?

“Yeah,” said Finn. “I—I really do.”

He knew exactly where he wanted to start looking. It wasn’t far from Simon’s house. He knew the address because he’d seen pictures. That place had been in the background of several old black and white shots. Finn hadn’t really thought about it until he saw the sword.

Finn thought of telling Hollyhock to stay with Betty. But he could tell she wasn’t going to do that. There was no scenario in which Hollyhock—his “babysitter”–didn’t follow him to that old abandoned building that had once belonged to Margaret and Joshua. Honestly, Finn was sort of happy for the company.

* * *

_Joshua and Margaret Investigations _said the plaque on the door.

Finn raised a hand to his face, swabbing away some fresh tears. _Oh glob. _He always thought it would be him and Jake doing this. Or maybe him, Jake, and Jermaine. When he was younger, Finn used to have elaborate fantasies about moving into this old building and turning it into an actual home for himself and his two brothers. Big happy family, just like their parents probably wanted.

Hollyhock leaned forward, her arms folded across her chest.

“Spooky,” she said.

Finn held up the sword as if he was offering it to the door. He scanned the name carved into it for the billionth time, like he thought it might have changed or something. _Joshua and Margaret Investigations. Joshua. _This had to be it. This had to be where Finn finally got all of his answers.

He swallowed. But did Finn really want this? Did he really want this closure? Or was this just a distraction, a way to make himself feel important?

Hollyhock made the decision for him. With one swift kick, she busted down the door.

Finn clutched the sword handle like he was about to use it, anger flaring in his chest.

“Hey!” he said.

But Hollyhock was already marching inside the building. Crossing the threshold, Hollyhock loaded an arrow into her bow and pointed it into the darkness. Abandoned buildings were the absolute worst for demon activity. All the supernatural baddies flocked to places like this. And if Joshua really had gotten his hands on a demon sword, there was no telling what else the guy had stashed in this building.

Finn followed. He actually didn’t care about property damage. The place was already falling apart. No one was going to notice a missing door. But Finn had wanted to be the one who dramatically kicked or punched open the door like a superhero. He wanted to be leading the charge into the unknown. This was _his _family’s old business. Finn should have been the one destroying stuff.

He sniffed. Finn smelled dust and old books. It couldn’t have been that long since this place was abandoned. Everything looked and smelled old, but not _too _old. Clearly no one had been there for several years. Not even squatters or vermin.

Finn activated the flashlight on his phone. The interior was larger than Finn had expected. He really could have turned this into a home. It was large enough for him, Jake, and Jermaine to each have their own room. Maybe someday, after all of this was over?

Hollyhock pulled out a flashlight of her own. It was the traditional kind. More powerful than the light on Finn’s phone.

“So what are we looking for?” said Hollyhock.

She placed the flashlight on a side table. Her bow was still loaded and ready. Hollyhock was alert, her ears tuned into every sound. The building was unnervingly silent. No skittering, no squeaking. And Hollyhock wasn’t getting the usual chill she expected from a demon-infested building.

“Mom and Dad,” said Finn.

He was being vague on purpose. Finn had no idea what he was trying to find. Evidence that his dad had been fighting demons? What did that even look like?

Hollyhock—who seemed legitimately on board for this—furrowed her brow.

“Demony stuff,” she said. “Proof your dad had mad hunter skills.”

She pointed her bow at the open bathroom door.

“In there?” said Hollyhock.

Finn braced himself. In his personal experience, bathrooms and closets were always the worst. Either they found something in there or something was going to find them. But if it delayed searching all the closets, Finn was okay with checking the bathroom. He was getting flashbacks to his last unfortunate encounter with a closet.

Hollyhock led the way—again—with her bow pointed forward.

“Are you, like, good with that thing?” said Finn.

Hollyhock lowered the bow for a second and turned around. She seemed surprised that Finn had asked.

“Oh, totes goats, my dude,” said Hollyhock. “I can nail a buck at two hundred paces.”

Finn had never been hunting, but that sounded pretty impressive.

“You kill a lot of bucks?” he said.

Hollyhock narrowed her eyes. She stuck out her foot, nudging the bathroom door completely open. It was a small bathroom. Just big enough for someone to hide in there. Someone could have been crouching behind that shower curtain.

“Only the evil ones,” said Hollyhock.

She reached into the saddlebag at her hip and pulled out an antler. Silently, she handed the antler to Finn.

Finn almost dropped it. For some reason, he thought it was fake. One of those plastic decorations. But the second Finn touched it, he realized it was one hundred percent real.

“You getting any baddie vibes?” said Hollyhock. “That thing should vibrate if it senses its…its _kind.”_

Finn squeezed the antler. Holding it made him feel uncomfortable. It was giving off a weird unnatural energy. But no vibrations.

“We’re good,” said Finn.

Hollyhock nodded. She didn’t ask for the antler back. She had apparently decided that she was in charge and Finn was her backup. Not the way Finn had envisioned this adventure, but at least Hollyhock knew how to use her weapon. Finn was stuck on Sword Wielding 101.

Finn slipped the antler into his back pocket. He steadied his grip on his phone, carefully aiming the light into that tiny space.

The bathroom was completely normal. Toilet, bathtub, sink, tiled floor. It was probably the most normal bathroom Finn had seen for the past few days. And according to the antler in Finn’s back pocket, there was no demon-y stuff.

“Aw crease,” said Hollyhock.

She pulled back the shower curtain. Just a regular old bathtub. Disgusting after years of neglect. No demons. No ghosts. Very disappointing.

The bathroom searched, Finn and Hollyhock headed back into the main room.

While Hollyhock searched the kitchen, Finn started opening closets. He’d expected some kind of Joshua and Margaret museum. But of course most of his parents’ stuff was tucked into a storage unit or at Jermaine’s place. Maybe that was why Simon had the sword. Finn hadn’t really thought about where any of his parents’ belongings had ended up. All the really important stuff was at the apartment he shared with Jake. Finn had never asked or wondered about mysterious swords.

Finn’s stomach turned over. He thought this was just where his parents’ worked. But that didn’t make any sense. The whole family must have lived there at some point. And Finn barely had any memories of living there. He remembered living _somewhere, _but this place was so different from the house in his memories. The hallways and bedrooms he pictured in his head were a lot more generic. This place had personality.

Quietly shutting a closet door, Finn glanced behind him. He could see Hollyhock’s light bouncing around as she continued to check out the kitchen. Finn was totally alone in that hallway.

He went upstairs, leaving the sword propped up against the banister. The stairs creaked under his feet, but Finn was pretty sure Hollyhock didn’t hear anything. She was too busy rooting through the kitchen in search of clues.

Finn stopped on the landing. He remembered this. He remembered the second bathroom on the second floor. There was something special about it. A memory maybe? Something about a song? Finn was having trouble holding down all of those memories. This didn’t even feel like the same house.

Finn had a decision to make. His parents’ room, the room he shared with his brothers, or the bathroom? Which did he check first? Where was he going to find the stuff he needed?

He smiled to himself. It was kind of funny. Finn went there for evidence, not a trip down memory lane. But that was inevitable, right? Of course this place was going to bring back a bunch of old memories. Of course it was going to stir up all of these super embarrassing emotions.

He started walking down the hallway. Well, the bathroom seemed like the obvious choice. If he could, Finn wanted to avoid those other two rooms. There was nothing for him in this place anymore. Just mostly empty bedrooms full of old furniture. Even Finn’s old crib was probably gone.

Finn almost tripped over a loose board. He stumbled forward, clutching his phone to stop it from flying out of his hand. The light bounced wildly on the walls as Finn struggled to keep his balance.

He turned to look at the loose board, his heart twinging with sympathy. This place really was falling apart. All the houses around there were abandoned, condemned, or both.

Finn squinted, pointing his light at the floor. Loose board. _Yes. _Finn had already gone over that. So why was he staring at it so intensely, rooted to the spot like he expected something to happen?

That board wasn’t just loose, Finn realized. It was _deliberately _loose. Someone—probably before the place started falling apart—had pried up that board. It was a hiding spot. An obvious one if you knew where to look. But practically invisible in a house begging for repairs.

Finn knelt down and grabbed the board with both hands. He carefully moved it aside. Finn was slightly afraid that the floor might collapse or something. Maybe he was totally wrong about this and he was destroying his old family home for no good reason.

There was a space—small and cramped—under the loose board. Big enough to hide something. And it _was _hiding something. Whoever had made this little secret spot, they hadn’t come back to reclaim what they were hiding.

Finn pulled out a single audio cassette. He frowned, turning it over in his hands. Finn had seen audio cassettes before. Jake had a bunch of them. But this one looked older than anything in Jake’s collection.

Jake’s name was written on the label.


	19. Apples and Stuff

The door to the house was unlocked. Bonnie and Marcy just walked right in, Bonnie leading the way into the cozy little cottage.

The unlocked door probably should have set off a million alarm bells, but Bonnie barely paused. Yeah, it was sort of weird. Who just left their door unlocked like that? But considering the location, it actually made sense. Bonnie wasn’t even sure the door _had _a lock. After all, it was basically a cottage in the middle of nowhere. And by “nowhere”, Bonnie meant an apple orchard that many people were unaware existed outside the town’s limits. No one went that far into the forest unless they were being chased.

What _did _set off alarm bells was the bowl of milk and unfinished pie on the kitchen table.

“Aw, frumps,” said Bonnie.

She walked over to the table, her heart thumping in her throat. It was just her and Marcy. The others were dealing with Lich-Jake. Bonnie was pretty sure they could figure out how to get Lich-Jake out of the car and to the house without her and Marcy’s help. Those three had at least a few brain cells between them.

Bonnie had been worrying about how she was going to explain all of this. It all seemed so straightforward to her, but that was mostly because she’d been living it for the past two days. She had to keep reminding herself that—to the average person—this was totally banana-bread. Vampires, demons, _possession? _That sounded like the plot of a horror comedy movie. Stuff like that just didn’t happen in real life. And even if she got them to believe her, how the heck was she supposed to get them on board?

Marcy frowned, hovering a few inches above the floor in the doorway.

“They’re not here?” she said.

Bonnie touched the bowl of milk. She expected it to be warm. Willow and her husband—Mr. Truffle–must have popped out for a few minutes, right? It _was _a big orchard. And as far as Bonnie knew, the two of them—technically three—lived alone. It was just Willow and her husband doing all the apple-picking and baking. Maybe they went for a drive or a walk or something?

“Yeah,” said Bonnie.

A shiver skittered across her body, going all the way through her fingertip and into her spine. The bowl wasn’t warm. It was cold. Colder than it should have been. Touching it gave Bonnie another full body shiver.

Marcy floated over to the fridge and opened it. The top shelf was full of apple pies, presumably for selling. The second shelf had personal groceries—eggs, milk, that kind of stuff—and a few apples. Nothing was rotting, so it wasn’t like the place had been abandoned.

She grabbed an apple from the shelf and sank her fangs into it. _Holy crap. _When was the last time Marcy ate? She’d definitely been neglecting her basic needs over the past two days. It was all this Lich stuff. Being a vampire, Marcy sometimes forgot that she still needed food. Maybe not as much as she would have needed it as a human, but she_ did_ need to keep her energy level high. That probably wasn’t normal for vampires. Another weird quirk in her half-demon biology. Sometimes Marcy felt like she was_ almost_ a normal person._ Almost._

Sucking the red out of the apple, Marcy focused on the rest of the house. Two bedrooms. Presumably the first one was where Willow and her husband slept. The larger one was probably for their kid.

Marcy stared at the open doorway of the kid’s bedroom. Was it strange that she felt_ weird_ about this? Of course she trusted Bonnie, but….was this really the best plan they could come up with?

Bonnie picked up the pie. She squinted at it, holding the plate close to her face._ Huh._ One piece missing. Even if Willow and her husband were just talking a walk or something, why would they have left a perfectly good pie?

Marcy floated closer to the kid’s room, the apple still in her mouth as she sucked out all that delicious deep red. She poked her head through the doorway.

“Uh,” she said.

Bonnie returned the pie to the table. This was silly and she knew it. Of course Willow and her husband and kid just popped out for a few minutes. They probably went into town to buy groceries or something else completely normal and fine. Bonnie sometimes forgot that other people had lives outside of all this insane supernatural stuff.

She turned around. Bonnie thought Marcy was still in the doorway. She wanted to suggest that they go back to the car. Willow didn’t have a phone and Bonnie was painfully aware of that. But maybe her husband did? Or someone else knew how to get in contact with them?

Bonnie froze, staring at the doorway.

“Uh,” she said.

Marcy went further into the bedroom. It was dark, but Marcy had pretty good night vision. And even if she hadn’t, Marcy couldn’t have missed what was lying in the middle of the floor.

“Um, Bonnie,” said Marcy. “There’s—_oh crease—_there’s someone here.”

It was a kid. A kid was curled up on the bedroom floor. They had to have been at least eight or nine years old. They were big for their age, taller and wider than most kids. They were wearing pajamas, their head resting on their folded arms as they slept.

Two questions collided in Marcy’s head: Why wasn’t the kid in his bed and why were his pajamas about a size too small for him?

Marcy glanced over her shoulder and started to say something, raising her voice just in case Bonnie hadn’t heard her. But the words died in her head, the confusion falling off her face.

Bonnie backed into Marcy, her eyes fixed on the doorway. She felt Marcy grab her shoulders, which was enough to stop her from passing out.  
  


“What the crease?” said Bonnie.

There was a little girl standing in the doorway. The girl was barefoot and wearing a short nightgown stained gray with dirt. And just in case that wasn’t weird enough, the girl was staring at them with huge round eyes, her pupils completely dark.

Bonnie remembered what Peter mentioned. That whole thing about how all those supernatural baddies swarming. Somehow Bonnie totally forgot about that. She’d just finished getting her brain around vampires, demons, and the fact that Peter—a guy she’d known for most of her life—did this for a living.

Marcy was immediately in action, sprouting fangs as her pupils dilated. She dug her newly-formed claws into Bonnie’s shoulders and hissed at the girl—the _thing—_standing in the doorway. And there wasn’t a single doubt in Bonnie’s mind as she watched Marcy’s reaction: there was no way this was just a normal little girl with strange eyes.

Okay, so first a vampire, then a demon, and now a creepy little girl? Bonnie didn’t get how Peter did this every week. She’d been doing this for less than three days and she was already mentally and physically worn out. Bonnie couldn’t imagine dealing with shit like this on the regular.

She was already reaching for the nearest weapon. She would have preferred an ax or a baseball bat, something with a lot of smashing power. According to every zombie movie ever, a small cottage in the woods was always fully stocked for an apocalypse. Unfortunately, Willow and her husband weren’t really into prepping. They lived close enough to town for weekly or monthly grocery runs. And Bonnie doubted either of them would have an ax lying around.

Fortunately, Willow’s husband had left his toolbox in the kitchen. Bonnie knelt down and grabbed a wrench. It wasn’t one of those big wrenches, the kind she could have used to bash something’s head in. But it was better than nothing. And in this case, it was literally the only option.

Bonnie squeezed the wrench in her hand. But how exactly did she feel about attacking a little girl? Sure, she knew it wasn’t_ really_ a little girl. It was some kind of thought construct or illusion. Demons and ghosts did that all the time, right? But if it was something else, something that—for some inexplicable reason—just happened to look like a little girl and Bonnie attacked it with a wrench….

“What the heck’s that thing?” said Bonnie.

Marcy moved towards the creepy girl, her claws outstretched. She looked pretty intimidating, or at least she thought she did. A normal little girl would have fled at the first sight of those claws and the intense look on Marcy’s face. But the creepy girl-thing in the doorway didn’t even flinch.

“No clue,” said Marcy.

Bonnie blinked. She shifted into a two-handed grip with the wrench, as if holding it with both hands would somehow give it more power.

“_What?” _she said.

Marcy rolled her eyes. She looked over her shoulder, her face reverting back to its usual humanoid shape form. She kept the claws.

“Come on, dude,” said Marcy. “You expect me to know everything? You’re the flipping _scientist, _Bon-Bon. I’m just a donking vampire.”

Bonnie furrowed her brow. She was about to give a whole speech about how, no, she _didn’t _expect Marcy to know everything. But in her professional nerd opinion, Marcy _had _to know more than her, right? And that pained her to even think about, the idea that Marcy was actually the more informed one in this scenario. But it was also kind of nice—in an abstract way—to not be the smartest person in the room, although that part was totally off topic and there was no way Bonnie was saying that out loud.

But before Bonnie could say anything, a voice spoke from the bedroom.

“Mommy?” said the voice.

Quiet. Soft. Confused. _A kid._

Bonnie whirled around with the wrench, almost dropping her only weapon.

“Told you someone was here,” said Marcy.

She squinted at the creepy girl in the doorway. The girl hadn’t done anything…_yet. _But that was somehow more intimidating than if the girl had started babbling in Latin or levitating. Those were things Marcy could have understood. But just standing there, staring at them and not saying anything? _That _was new.

Marcy flexed her claws. She had no idea what was happening, but her guard was all the way up.

Her heart thumping at top speed, Bonnie went into the bedroom. Well, now she knew something had happened. Because there was no way Willow and her husband would have just left their kid at home by himself. They would have at least hired a babysitter.

Angel—Willow and Mr. Truffle’s adopted son—was sitting on the floor of his bedroom. Bonnie and Marcy’s talking must have woken him up. He was rubbing his eyes, his face filled with innocent confusion.

Bonnie took a few steps closer. _Oh crap. _Talking to kids wasn’t exactly one of her skills. Even Finn was a challenge, even though they were relatively close in age. But Finn had always been younger mentally than he was in actual years. So Bonnie had concluded that she just couldn’t talk to kids.

“Um, Angel?” said Bonnie.

She stopped in front of him, the wrench still clutched in one hand.

“Where’s your parents?” she said.

Angel stared at her for a full minute. He must have recognized her from the few times she’d visited. Just like almost everyone else, Bonnie popped down to the cottage every few weeks for a nice fresh apple pie. And Angel was always there, playing in the corner or watching intently from his seat at the table.

“I don’t know,” said Angel.

He rubbed his hands together, his brow furrowed.

“They told me to stay here,” he said. “They said it’s not safe out there.”

Bonnie swallowed._ Oh crap._ So she was wrong. Willow and Mr. Truffle hadn’t inexplicably just left their kid by himself. Bonnie probably should have felt good about that, but it added another layer of questions._ And_ it was getting dark outside, the sun slipping below the trees.

“_Nope,”_ said Bonnie. “Nope nope nope.”

She grabbed Angel by the wrist and yanked him to his feet. Dragging him behind her, she started walking to the door, the wrench slipping out of her hand. Bonnie didn’t even bother picking up her only weapon. Bonnie was suddenly okay with anything that got them out of the house. And if that meant fist-fighting a little girl, Bonnie was one hundred percent on board.

“Donk this,” she said. “We’re leaving.”

Marcy had her eyes on the creepy girl in the doorway. Still no movement. The girl hadn’t even blinked. It was like Marcy was watching a mannequin.

“You sure?” said Marcy.

Bonnie squeezed Angel’s hand. She could hear him sniffling and she was intensely aware of the fact that he was about to start bawling. But Bonnie didn’t have time to deal with that. She just wanted to get the hell out of that cottage.

“We got what we came here for,” said Bonnie.

Putting it like that made her stomach flip over, but Bonnie had to be honest with herself. If they were going to get through this, she had to embrace what they were doing. She had to accept every part of it and how screwed up it was.

Marcy raised both eyebrows. She didn’t like the performative chill in Bonnie’s voice.

“What about your dudes?” said Marcy. “Willow and that Truffle guy?”

Bonnie swallowed. She tried not to look at the creepy little girl in the doorway. There was a lot of stuff Bonnie was never going to forgive herself for, but this was pretty high on the list.

“It’s probably better that they don’t know,” said Bonnie. “If this works, they won’t_ have_ to know.”

Marcy finally landed, planting both feet on the kitchen floor. For the first time in a while, she had on her serious face.

“But that sucks, Bonnibel,” said Marcy. “You know it does.”

Bonnie chewed her bottom lip and stared at the floor. She kept her grip on Angel’s hand, paranoid that he might bolt if she let go of him. Angel was young, but Bonnie remembered being a little kid. Bonnie remembered understanding things on a deeper level than most adults would have expected.

“You think I don’t donking know that?” said Bonnie._ “_Holy_ crease,_ Marceline. I don’t like this. But we do this or it all goes banana-bread.”

She lowered her voice, glancing at Angel.

“And it’s not like we’re gonna, you know,_ dust_ him,” said Bonnie. “He’ll be fine. Probably._ Probably.”_

Marcy opened her mouth to argue. This was turning into a huge thing and she hated it, but she couldn’t just let this go._ Marcy_ was supposed to be the reckless one. Bonnie was supposed to be all about science and logic. When and how did their whole deal get so distorted?

“Oh_ Grod,”_ said Bonnie.

She was staring at the doorway. The_ empty_ doorway. The creepy little girl had vanished. At some point while Marcy and Bonnie were having their little disagreement, the girl had disappeared.

Marcy let out a groan and rolled her eyes as she retracted her claws.

“Seriously?” she said.

Bonnie pulled Angel closer. She swiveled her head back and forth, scanning the entire room for any sign of a blank-eyed girl. But it was just a normal kitchen. If it hadn’t been for the unusually cold cereal bowl, Bonnie would have thought her and Marcy had just experienced a shared hallucination.

“Well, that’s, uh, not good,” said Bonnie.

Marcy laughed.

“No duh, Bonnibel,” she said. “This is plops. Totes plops.”

Marcy floated over to the doorway. She poked her head through it. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to see. Maybe an army of blank-eyed girls waiting for them outside? Terrifying, but also something Marcy could have understood.

Bonnie grabbed the only other weapon she could get her hands on: a pie cutter. She had no idea where Willow and Mr. Truffle kept the knives and she wasn’t sticking around long enough to find out.

“Where are those dorks?” said Marcy.

It was almost all the way dark now.

“I don’t know,” said Bonnie.

She wrestled her phone out of her pocket and turned on the light. Whatever that creepy girl-thing was, Bonnie did_ not_ want to encounter it in the dark.

Now they had two choices: head back to the car or search for Angel’s parents. In the dark. Bonnie had never been particularly scared of darkness, but she was starting to understand why Peter was scared of quiet dark places. Probably a side effect of his job. And unfortunately for Bonnie, neither of those two options sounded appealing. She wanted to stay in the relative safety of the cottage. The nice warm cottage with working lights.

“Split up?” said Marcy.

Bonnie stared at Marcy for a full minute, one eyebrow raised.

Marcy shoved her hands in her pockets and looked away. Could Bonnie tell that she was kind of freaking out? It was irrational and Marcy knew it, but she genuinely didn’t like this. The creepy girl-things she didn’t recognize, Angel’s missing parents, all the Lich stuff, the fact that Rain, Kara, and Peter—_three_ people—hadn’t shown up with Jake. Rain was a witch, Kara could have bench-pressed anyone, and Peter was heavily armed. What could have happened to them?

“Or maybe not?” said Marcy.

Angel finally said something.

“I’m scared,” said Angel.

And Marcy seized the opportunity to be one hundred percent honest for maybe the first time since this whole insane adventure started. Marcy was caught off guard by how easy it was to tell the truth. She’d basically prepared herself for a few more hours or days of half-truths and holding stuff back. But what was even the point anymore?

“Yeah,” said Marcy. “I’m scared too.”

Bonnie squeezed Angel’s hand, slowly processing where she was and what was happening. She was standing in front of a cottage in the middle of an apple orchard with a scared vampire and an even more scared kid. And she was about to head off into the dark with only the crappy light on her phone and a _pie cutter_ to defend herself.

She was eighty-percent sure they were all going to die. But that left twenty percent for doubt. And with all the insane stuff happening, twenty percent wasn’t even that bad.


	20. Wild Animals and Stuff

Finn shoved the tape into the cassette player.

He found the cassette player in a closet upstairs. It was old and covered in a thick layer of dust, but it wasn’t like Finn had a choice. He didn’t have a cassette player and it would have taken hours—maybe days—to convert an old cassette into an audio file. And he didn’t _want _to convert it. Finn couldn’t touch an audio file, couldn’t hold it in both hands and try to figure out what his dad had been thinking when he hid this under the floorboards.

Hollyhock had raised a very good question: _“Are you sure your dad wants you to see this? Why didn’t he just, like, send it to you?”_

Finn’s finger hovered over the dusty _Play _button on the player. _Oh dang. _Hollyhock was right. _Why _would Joshua leave a cassette tape in a hidden spot under the floorboards? Why not stash it somewhere Finn was guaranteed to find it? Why put his son’s name on it if he was just going to leave it somewhere none of his sons could find it? Maybe it was something boring, like an audio recording of Joshua and Margaret’s will.

He shook his head. No, that was ridiculous. Joshua and Margaret didn’t _have _a will. Everything they had just automatically went to their three sons, with Jermaine taking the bulk of their stuff—the stuff that wouldn’t fit in the storage unit—while Finn and Jake got a huge chunk of it. Apparently the three of them got everything except the badass demon sword.

Finn furrowed his brow. He was starting to think that his parents didn’t want him to find any of this stuff. Were they trying to cut him off from this part of their lives? Trying to make sure their sons—or at least Finn, the youngest of the three brothers—never figured any of this out?

Hollyhock popped up behind Finn, arching her neck to look over his shoulder with her arms crossed.

“_Dude,” _she said.

Finn grabbed his chest, his heart rattling around like a bird in a cage. _Holy crap. _Hollyhock must have come up the stairs while he was staring at the cassette player.

“What the _crease?” _said Finn. “I almost cut your head off!”

Hollyhock snorted.

“No you didn’t,” she said.

Finn could barely wield that thing. If he’d actually tried to cut someone’s head off, he probably would have ended up slicing off his own hand by mistake. Hollyhock wasn’t too worried about some dork with a sword. She was more worried about the fact that Finn had been staring at a cassette player for the past two minutes and not moving.

“So what’s the deal?” said Hollyhock.

Finn touched the cassette player, like he expected it to start playing by itself. He knew he should be heading back to the house. Betty was all by herself. Finn couldn’t imagine what she was doing.

“What if it’s, like, _bad?” _said Finn. “What if it’s about how I’m a failure and Jake should have sent me to live with Jermaine and—and–and–”

He couldn’t even finish. Finn knew he wasn’t winning any awards for Best Brother. He _was _a failure, or at least he felt like one. Jermaine hardly ever talked to Finn and Jake and now Jake was possessed. Finn felt like everything—even the Jermaine stuff—was mostly his fault. Maybe if he hadn’t been in the picture—the adopted brother—Jermaine and Jake would have gotten along better. Jake’s life basically ended after his parents died. He tried his best, but he suddenly had a younger brother to take care of. Jake had to do a lot of stuff he never thought he’d have to do, take on a lot of responsibilities that were way out of his league.

Hollyhock grabbed Finn’s shoulder. She had a snarky comment all ready to go, but it evaporated in her throat.

“Hey,” she said. _“Hey. _It’s totes blooby, my dude. You gotta believe in yourself.”

Finn snorted out a laugh._ Wow._ That was such a_ Jake_ thing to say. But somehow it sounded better coming from Hollyhock, someone who had zero investment in Finn’s happiness.

“Thanks,” said Finn. “That’s actually, like, really helpful.”

Hollyhock let go of Finn’s shoulder.

“Well, yeah,” she said. “Didn’t want you to, like, mess your pants or something.”

Finn held up both hands, his cheeks blazing red.

“Hey!” he said. “I haven’t messed my pants since I was a buff baby. I’m a young adult! That’s not something I do anymore.”

Hollyhock rolled her eyes. _Geez. _Since when was Finn a “young adult”? Did Finn even know what that meant?

“Sure, man,” said Hollyhock. “Whatever.”

She snatched the cassette player from him. Hollyhock was getting bored. No demons, no ghosts, not even a lingering spirit. This place was totally clean. What was even the point? They were going to be there all night if she let Finn steer.

Finn tried to grab the cassette player, but Hollyhock danced out of his way.

“Time’s up,” said Hollyhock. “We’re doing this ding-dang business _now__, _and then we’re getting the heck out of–”

She whipped her head around, tightening her grip on the ancient cassette player. Hollyhock was hyper alert to every noise. Mostly because there _wasn’t _any noise. The house was almost dead silent. And if Hollyhock had been getting any readings from the equipment she had on hand, that silence would have made sense.

“Um, you hear that?” said Hollyhock.

She shoved the cassette player back into Finn’s hands.

“Getting anything?” said Hollyhock. “On that thing I gave you?”  
  
Finn touched the antler. He’d stuffed it into his back pocket for safe keeping. And it didn’t seem to be vibrating. Finn definitely would have felt it.

“Nope,” said Finn.

Hollyhock loaded an arrow into her bow. She wasn’t sure what she’d heard. Hooves? Hooves on the wooden floor? It could have just been an animal. Given the lack of response from the antler, it probably _was _an animal. A raccoon or something. Maybe a cat. But Hollyhock couldn’t shake the feeling that she was totally wrong. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was time to _get the fuck out._

“Cover me,” said Hollyhock.

Finn was tempted to point out that this whole thing should have been the other way around. Hollyhock should have been covering _him, _since she was the one with the long-range weapon. She should have been running interference or suppressing fire or something. But Finn knew this wasn’t the time to argue with an expert.

He picked up the sword and posed dramatically, pointing it at the staircase. He felt like he was getting the hang of it.

Something came up the staircase—its hooves clip-clopping on the wooden stairs as it ascended—and Hollyhock nearly fired off an arrow. It was a reflex she struggled to suppress, gripping the bow like her life depended on it.

It was a deer. A freaking _deer. _It looked identical to the ones Hollyhock and Finn had seen wandering around the area. Deer usually didn’t come so far out of the forest, but this place was full of abandoned buildings that had been reclaimed by wildlife.

Finn lowered the sword, exhaling in relief. _Holy Glob. _He thought it was a vengeful spirit or something. Or maybe even the ghost of his mom or dad. Buildings like this were almost always haunted. And Finn wasn’t in the mood for a heart-to-heart with his dead parents.

Hollyhock looked at him, her eyebrow quirked.

“What are you doing?” she said.

Finn stared at her, his grip on the sword loosening.

“It’s a deer,” he said.

Hollyhock rolled her eyes. She turned away from him, squinting as she lined up her shot again. The tip of her arrow—handmade—seemed to glint even in the relative darkness of the hallway.

“Deer don’t go up stairs, ya donk,” she said.

Finn took a step back._ Oh. Crap._

The “deer”–or whatever the heck it was—blinked at them. Before Finn could say anything, the thing—the thing that looked like a deer—stood up on its hind legs. It wasn’t awkwardly balancing like an animal that was having a bad time. It stood without hesitation, its eyes locked on Finn and Hollyhock. It stood up and “removed” its front hooves, revealing a pair of disconcertingly humanoid hands.

“Oh_ crease,”_ said Finn.

He recoiled, trying to wrap his brain around what he was seeing.

Hollyhock snorted.

“Yeah,” she said.

Finn grabbed the antler in his back pocket and squeezed it. _Nope. _Nothing. Not even a twitch.

Hollyhock finally took her shot, releasing an arrow. Precision was key. Even with a full quiver, Hollyhock was taking her time.

_Blam! _Right in the chest. A few inches off from where Hollyhock was initially aiming, but she’d readjusted. She didn’t need one hundred percent accuracy. Lining up her shot wasn’t all about the bullseye.  
  


The deer-thing shuddered, its entire body rippling like a mirage. It stepped back on its hooves and teetered, but it didn’t fall. No blood. And even with the arrow sticking out of it, it didn’t make a noise. It didn’t drop back down to its four hooves and retreat.

Finn charged past Hollyhock with the sword, ready for his finishing move. He’d seen enough movies to know where this was going. Take the thing out while it was stunned. Finn knew he could do this. He just had to raise the sword and slice the thing in half._ Easy._

The sword flew out of Finn’s hands and clattered to the floor, completely useless. It took Finn a second to realize that it hadn’t been yanked out of his grip by some kind of supernatural force._ Nope._ He’d just dropped it.

Hollyhock gave him an eye roll, loading another arrow into her bow.

“Nice,” she said. “Very cool.”

She lined up another shot.

“Is this, like, _normal _for you?” said Finn.

Hollyhock squinted at her target. The deer-thing hadn’t moved from its spot. The first arrow had stunned it, leaving it open for another attack. But that was going to change. Eventually it would come to its senses and they would both be totally boned.

“Nope,” said Hollyhock. “They don’t usually do _that.”_

She’d fought a lot of those things over the past few years. The forest was full of them. But this was the first time one had been so overtly creepy. They usually kept their form until Hollyhock got close enough to bop them with something. And the antler _always _told Hollyhock if one of them was nearby. _Always._

“Something’s got them all hyped up,” said Hollyhock.

She _had _noticed an uptick in encounters. Hollyhock actually lost track of all the ones she’d killed over the last week. Did it have something to do with the Lich? Was that why the forest was getting all riled up? Did the other creatures sense that something big and powerful was in town and now they were acting out?

_Or maybe they know the end is coming. _The thought entered Hollyhock’s brain involuntarily.

Shaking her head to clear it, Hollyhock focused on her shot. Her hands were getting a little shaky, but she tried to keep the shot lined up. This might be their only chance to get out of this alive. And she had to save both of them. Hollyhock promised.

The second shot hit the deer-thing right in the neck. This time it didn’t just teeter. It fully stumbled, pitching backwards and disappearing. It fell backwards and hit the stairs, its entire body letting out a loud_ crack_ that sounded like bones breaking. It tumbled and rolled down the stairs, landing in a heap at the bottom.

Hollyhock rushed over to peek, reluctantly lowering her unloaded bow._Thank Grod._ That was so close. Hollyhock had been certain they were screwed.

The deer-thing was lying in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, its body twisted and broken. It looked like it had gotten hit by a car or something. It had reverted back to its normal buck form at some point. If Hollyhock hadn’t just seen it standing on its back hooves and menacingly wriggling its creepy human fingers at them, she would have thought it was just a regular deer.

Hollyhock exhaled in relief. With how that thing had somehow fooled the antler, she’d expected it to be tougher.

“Okay, we’re clear,” said Hollyhock.

Finn grabbed the cassette player. He suddenly wanted to get the heck out of this house. And he never wanted to come back. This place didn’t have anything for him. Not anymore.

He picked up the sword. Finn was still sad that he’d messed up his super badass finishing move. But at least they were okay, right?

“Should we, uh–?” said Finn.

Hollyhock was already heading downstairs, her bow tucked away.

“I’ll, like, call someone,” she said.

That was a lie and she was pretty sure Finn knew it. But Hollyhock was_ not_ spending the next few hours disposing of a corpse. It was way easier to just leave the thing there and let it rot. It wasn’t like the thing was going to get up again. Not after that tumble. And no one was going to question a dead deer in an abandoned building.

Hollyhock reached the bottom of the stairs and carefully stepped over the dead deer-thing. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, raising both of her eyebrows.

“_Huh,”_ she said.

Finn came up behind her, dragging the sword behind him and holding the cassette player close to his chest. The tape was still in there. Finn wasn’t sure he could listen to it. All the courage had left his body.

“What’s—?” Finn said.

He stopped.

“Oh_ dang,”_ said Finn.

Deer._ Lots of_ deer. The entire room was filled with them. And they were all staring directly at Hollyhock and Finn. Waiting for them.

Hollyhock loaded an arrow into her bow, moving slightly away from Finn. _Of course_ it wasn’t that easy, damn it. And Finn was practically pressed against her in the narrow space at the bottom of the stairs, metaphorically and literally breathing down her neck. Very hard to concentrate.

“We should probably, um, run,” said Finn.

Hollyhock paused, her bow half-raised.

“Oh yeah,” said Hollyhock.

She stuffed the arrow back into her quiver and tucked her bow onto her back. Yeah, running sounded like the best idea. In fact, arguably it was the_ only_ idea.


	21. Spirits and Stuff

Bonnie grumbled to herself, batting branches out of the way as she stomped through the forest.

Had Bonnie mentioned how much she hated nature? Because after all the crap they’d been through, she was finding this only _slightly _less bearable than that whole thing with the Lich. At least all this paranormal stuff was something she didn’t understand, something she had to solve. But nature? Nature just _was. _Trees blocking her way, branches everywhere, fallen leaves making it impossible to stay quiet. If they wanted to sneak up on someone, they were out of luck.

Angel was clinging to Bonnie’s hand, his footsteps even louder than hers. Every time he stumbled and almost fell on his butt, Bonnie braced herself for something to come barreling out of the trees and rip them to shreds.

“You okay, Marcy?” said Bonnie. “You need a light or something?”

She mostly asked because the silence was getting to her. How long had it been since they left the relative safety of the house to find Angel’s parents? Twenty minutes? Thirty? And no one had said a single word since the light from the cottage faded away. _Geez. _How big was this orchard?

Marcy was floating a few inches off the ground, her arms around herself. Her eyes were narrow and cat-like, irises glowing yellow.

“Nope,” he said. “I got special eyes.”

She tapped her cheek and grinned.

Bonnie blushed and hung her head. _Oh. _Of course Marcy could see in the dark.

None of them had spotted one of those creepy girls. Bonnie was starting to believe she’d dreamed or imagined them, that her and Marcy had shared a really screwed up hallucination. But at this point? Bonnie knew better. If she couldn’t trust her eyes, she was screwed.

Bonnie kept yelling Willow’s name. Well, whisper-yelling. She wasn’t brave enough to raise her voice.

“You know, I’ve heard, like, stories,” said Marcy. “About girls with dark eyes.”

Bonnie nibbled her bottom lip. Was now _really _the time for ghost stories? _Really? _This was maybe the worst possible time to get extra spooked. Especially with a literal child as their third party member.

“But that’s just _stories,” _said Marcy. “Holy _crease, _guys. The woods is kind of nutso-bonzo-beans, huh?”

Bonnie snorted.

“Yeah, Marceline,” she said. “That’s one way to put it. And this isn’t really _woods. _It’s more _orchard-and-woods.”_

She realized that Marcy probably wasn’t much older than her. Well, _technically. _Bonnie wasn’t sure how aging worked for vampires. Would it have been weird for her—a human—to date someone who was over a thousand years old? Was that even moral, in the eyes of general society? After all, the age gap between Finn and Bonnie had been a little too much for her. Of course there had also been the maturity component. Even if they’d been the exact same age, Bonnie wasn’t sure she could have considered Finn a potential partner.

But Marcy didn’t _act _like she was over a thousand years old. Bonnie had older relatives, people who’d lived several decades more than her. And those people—most of them—were wise and stubborn. Marcy acted more like, well, _an older teenager._

“Hey Marcy,” said Bonnie. “Uh, weird question. But, um, when did you—when did you stop aging? And be real with me.”

Marcy shrugged, her hands spread out in front of her as she floated along.

“I don’t know?” said Marcy. “I guess when I—when I first became a vampire? It’s super mess, Bonnibel. I don’t think you’d get it.”

Bonnie rubbed her shoulder, tightening her grip on the phone so she wouldn’t drop it. No, she wasn’t going to get it. Because Bonnie had only lived one life. One boring human life. But Bonnie _wanted _to get it.

“Try me,” said Bonnie.

Marcy flipped over in midair, her hair hanging like a curtain.

“Okay, okay,” said Marcy. “So my dad’s a demon, right? Did I tell you that? Well, whatevs. Anyway, he’s a demon and a total butt and everything.”

She scratched the side of her face.

“Uh, I guess that makes_ me_ a demon?” said Marcy. “But anyway, long story short, this big bad vampire dude bit me. Back when I used to hunt vampires. And now I’m—I’m_ this.”_

Bonnie almost stopped in her tracks. She reached behind her, checking to make sure Angel was still holding on. It was so unnaturally dark out there. Bonnie could barely see two inches in front of her, even with the phone light blaring.

“Whoa,” said Bonnie. “A vampire_ bit_ you? That’s_ butts,_ Marcy.”

Marcy grimaced. Yeah, it_ was_ butts. She wondered if Bonnie could handle the full story. It was pretty horrifying. And Marcy didn’t say that lightly. Sometimes she could still feel the vampire’s cold breath on her neck as he held her down, his fangs sinking into her neck. She remembered how helpless she felt. It was the most scared Marcy had ever been in her entire life.

“Yep,” said Marcy.

She turned her head and craned her neck, even though Bonnie couldn’t see her. She was showing off the bite marks on her neck. The bite marks that Bonnie had probably mistaken for a tattoo, back when Bonnie didn’t believe any of this stuff. Marcy_ wished_ it was a tattoo.

Bonnie aimed the light in front of her._ Oh Grod._ She really hated walking around in the middle of this not-normal darkness. She kept whipping her head around, expecting to see someone or something vanishing behind a tree. But she couldn’t see_ anything._ Bonnie was scared she might barrel headfirst into a tree and knock herself out. Good thing Marcy could see in the dark. She was mostly relying on her other senses instead of the light in her hands.

“Uh, more stuff?” said Bonnie. “About you? Like, boyfriends? Girlfriends?”

Marcy snorted. She was floating behind Bonnie with both her hands on Bonnie’s shoulders. She wasn’t in the mood to talk about this stuff—not that she was_ ever_ in the mood—but she could see what Bonnie was doing.

“Boyfriend,” said Marcy. “His name was Ash. Total dick.”

Bonnie’s stomach dipped. She couldn’t tell if the noises she heard were being made by animals or her own footsteps. It sounded like something or someone massive was moving through the trees. Bonnie wanted to stop and listen, but she made herself keep moving. She had the pie cutter—her only weapon—held awkwardly in one hand.

“What about you?” said Marcy. “Any Bifs? Gifs? Thifs?”

Her voice rose a little when she said the last word, her ears twitching. She’d kind of lied earlier. Marcy_ could_ see in the dark. But this wasn’t normal darkness. She could see further than Bonnie, but there was still this oppressive wall of nothingness a few feet ahead of her that shouldn’t have been there.

“Nope,” said Bonnie. “I’ve only smooched, like, _one _person.”

She curled her lip in disgust. Yeah, and she didn’t exactly _enjoy _that hardcore smooching sesh. Her uncle thought getting her a boyfriend was a great way to tear Bonnie away from her work. If anything, it had solidified Bonnie’s commitment to science and her descent into total hermit-dom.

“Wanna make it two?” said Marcy.

Bonnie dragged a hand through her hair. She wasn’t even aiming the light anymore. It seemed pointless. Marcy was guiding her, holding her shoulders and steering her away from trees and branches.

“I don’t know, dude,” said Bonnie. “Maybe if we ever beat this junk, I’ll do a whole lotta smooching. Right now I’m kinda focused on making sure my buns don’t get toasted, ya know?”

Marcy playfully slapped both of Bonnie’s shoulders, her cheeks lighting up like a beacon.

“Oh _Glob, _Bonnibel,” said Marcy. “I was _flirting. _That was a _flirt.”_

Bonnie hung her head, turning her own shade of red. _Oh._

“Thanks?” said Bonnie.

Marcy snorted out a laugh. She rested one hand on top of Bonnie’s hand, the other remaining on her shoulder. What was it about Bonnie? Her hair, the way she dressed, her beautiful eyes full of nerdy knowledge? Or that massive science brain? Or maybe just the fact that Marcy hadn’t pursued a relationship in almost one thousand years?

Marcy shook her head, mentally chastising herself like a disobedient dog. _No. Bad Marcy._ A “relationship”? That wasn’t what this was. This was—at best—a friendship. And it was never going to be anything more serious than that, because romantic relationships required, well,_ commitment._ And how could Marcy commit to someone who was going to grow up normally, a human who had her own life outside of the supernatural?

“You okay, Mar-Mar?” said Bonnie.

Marcy huffed out a weak laugh at the silly nickname. Bonnie must have noticed how her hands were shaking and she was trying to lighten the mood.

“Scared,” said Marcy.

She didn’t elaborate on_ what_ she was scared of and Bonnie didn’t ask.

Angel tugged on Bonnie’s shirt, reminding her that he was still there. He could have bolted off into the trees at any point and Bonnie wouldn’t have noticed. Bonnie was counting on a few things, mostly him being too scared to even consider running away from the only adults—kind of—he’d seen in a long time.

“Cold,” he said.

Bonnie was about to ask if Angel had a jacket or something, which she knew was silly. There was no way they were heading back to the cottage, even though she really wanted to know if Peter and the others had made it there. This whole thing had been a knee-jerk reaction to a crappy situation, Bonnie’s blind attempt at taking charge by giving them a path. Now she was regretting it because they definitely weren’t ready for another intense battle.

But it wasn’t_ that_ kind of cold, Bonnie noticed. But it wasn’t Lich cold either. This was a new kind of temperature drop. Bonnie braced herself for the absolute worst.

“Oh_ geez,”_ said Marcy.

She took her hands off Bonnie’s shoulders.

Bonnie started to object, started to point out how they needed to stick together. But she noticed that it was no longer completely dark in the orchard. Well, it was still_ mostly_ dark. But there were a few small lights—bouncing near the ground—a few feet away. It looked like three people-shaped lanterns.

As the two of them got closer, they realized that it_ was_ three people. Three people floating a few feet off the ground, their feet either non-visible or nonexistent. There was a faint blue glow around each of them, the source of the light. It almost made them look like the modern interpretation of angels.

But those people definitely weren’t angels. There was a woman with short hair wearing a tattered nightgown, a short man in a similar tattered nightgown, and a guy just wearing a pair of pants. They were standing in a circle. In the middle of the circle, there were two familiar people lying in a heap of limbs.

Bonnie’s stomach dropped. Even before she got closer, she recognized those shapes. Willow and her husband Mr. Pigg.

“Dudes!” said Marcy.

She stopped a few inches away from the circle and spread her arms.

Bonnie stood back, one hand clutching the pie cutter. Of course Marcy knew those guys._ Of course_ she did.

The woman with short hair turned and looked at Marcy.

“Oh, hey, Marceline,” she said. “Knew you’d be here.”

The short guy turned and flashed a huge grin at Marcy.

“Totes rad, huh?” he said. “How we’re all here and junk? Nice of you to join the party, vampire lady.”

Marcy crossed her arms and looked at Bonnie. She felt weirdly uncomfortable about this, and not for the reasons she normally would. It was just a little, well,_ early_ for Bonnie to be meeting her friends. Not that those guys were her_ friend_ friends. But still, wasn’t this moving kind of fast? And of course it had to happen right after Marcy reminded herself that this thing she had with Bonnie wasn’t going anywhere.

“Uh, Bonnie,” said Marcy. “These are my, uh,_ friends._ Wendy, George, and Bob. They’re ghosts.”

Wendy left the circle and approached Bonnie, a huge grin on her pale glowing face. Bonnie immediately recoiled from the cold that rushed over her, but Wendy didn’t seem to either notice or care.

Bonnie shuddered._ Holy crap._ A ghost. A real_ ghost._ She thought the movies and books were exaggerating, but apparently all the tropes and stereotypes were one hundred percent true. She_ did_ feel cold and Wendy_ was_ missing her bottom half for some reason.

“What did you do to them?” said Bonnie.

She brandished the pie cutter, holding it in front of her with one hand as she squeezed Angel’s hand with the other. Were the ghosts responsible for the weird unnatural darkness? No, that didn’t make any sense. Which meant the darkness had come from somewhere else. Something bad was going down in Candace. It was like every supernatural thing that could happen_ was_ happening at the same time.

“Oooh, fun,” said Wendy. “She’s fun. You didn’t tell me your friends were_ fun,_ Marcy. You’re so mean.”

Marcy rubbed the back of her neck. It had been forever since she hung out with those three. And she already felt like this conversation was going in familiar circles.

“Did they, like, bite it?_”_ said Marcy.

George laughed, floating away from the circle and moving closer to Marcy.

“Nah, dude,” he said. “That’s so_ boring._ They’re just sleeping. I think. You know how humans are.”

Bonnie breathed out._ Thank Grod._ She was_ not_ ready to deal with the Lich, dead parents, a lost child, and whatever was going on with Peter and the others. Strangely, Bonnie felt like she was way better at dealing with those huge supernatural problems. She could wrap her nerd brain around those.

“What are you guys even doing here?” said Marcy.

Bob was the last to float away from the circle. He looked friendlier than Wendy or George, but Marcy knew from experience that this wasn’t true.

“Uh, being awesome?” said Bob. “Where’s your spirit, Marcy?_ Mine’s_ right here. Our world’s wide open now. Like a rift.”

Bonnie swallowed, her hand shaking. So that kind of explained what was happening in Candace. And the Lich seemed to be the catalyst.

“Great,” said Marcy. “Can you, um, give us those two humans? We kind of need them.”

Wendy threw back her head and laughed. Halfway through, the laugh turned into a distorted jumble of sounds.

Bonnie took a step back, her chest clenching with fear. She’d never fought a ghost before. Bonnie ran through possible strategies in her head, but her brain kept hitting dead ends. Nothing she had on her seemed helpful.

“Nope,” said George. “We’ve got_ plaaaans.”_

Marcy tilted her head and quirked an eyebrow at the three ghosts.

“Plans?” she said.

Wendy and Bob floated back over to the motionless bodies. Bob was giggling like a toddler and Wendy still had this huge grin fixed on her face.

“Oh yeah,_ plans,”_ said Wendy.

She floated closer to Willow and Mr. Pigg. Close enough for both of them to feel the cold she was giving off. Willow stirred and mumbled a little in her sleep, but otherwise no response from either of them. The two of them were clearly in no position to flee if things got bad.

“First we’re gonna chase them,” said George.

Bob was floating upside down.

“And then we’re gonna, you know,_ suck out their brains through their skulls,”_ said Bob. “Just, you know, for fun.”

Marcy blinked, eyebrow lowering to its original position.

“_Oh,”_ she said.

She floated back over to Bonnie and grabbed her shoulder. Her grip was tight and slightly possessive, her fingernails digging into Bonnie’s shoulder. She wasn’t smiling or laughing or grinning like this whole thing was a joke, which was what Bonnie had been hoping.

“Let’s go,” said Marcy.

Bonnie pulled out of Marcy’s grip and spun around.

“Excuse me,_ what?”_ she said. “We can’t let them_ kill_ those two!”

Marcy rolled her eyes. She was trying to play it off like she didn’t care, but she hated hearing that genuine distress in Bonnie’s voice.

Angel was whimpering and holding on tight to Bonnie’s hand. He wasn’t really old enough to fully understand, but he got the gist of what was happening. And in hindsight, Bonnie shouldn’t have just blurted out that part about his parents being killed. Bonnie wasn’t scoring any points for babysitting.

“We can’t fight ghosts,” said Marcy. “They’ll, like, bake our beans for real.”

Bonnie bit her lip._ “How can you say that? You’re a flipping vampire!”_ she wanted to scream. But Bonnie didn’t know the rules of this brand new world and she wasn’t going to argue with Marcy like she did. And what Marcy said made perfect logical sense. How exactly were you supposed to fight a non-physical enemy, an enemy who could phase through solid objects? Bonnie’s stupid pie cutter and her years of hand-to-hand combat training were totally pointless.

What would Finn have done? If Finn was there, facing three impossibly strong opponents, what would have been his first move?

Bonnie turned back to the circle of ghosts._ Right. _If Finn had been there, he would have done something recklessly stupid and brave. He would have fought until he was bleeding out and every bone was broken. For Jake, for Bonnie, for Angel.

She let go of Angel’s hand. Well, Bonnie _wasn’t _Finn. But maybe that was a good thing? Because Finn would have done something stupid and gotten himself killed in three seconds. But Bonnie liked planning. She was _good _at planning. And there was already a pretty decent plan brewing in her skull. She’d have to act quick and there was only a five percent chance it was going to work. But it was better than nothing.

“Cover me,” she said.

Marcy stared at the back of Bonnie’s head. She could have done so many things. She could have shapeshifted into a giant bat-creature, scooped up Bonnie and Angel, and flew them the heck out of there. She could have grabbed a rock, knocked Bonnie out, and carried the two of them out of the orchard. Marcy could have charged at the ghosts, giving Angel and Bonnie time to escape while she distracted them. But Marcy didn’t want to do any of those things, even though she knew it was statistically impossible for her and Bonnie to win this. Because she trusted Bonnie.

She moved into position without a word, her teeth becoming sharper and her face changing. She didn’t know how long she could hold them off. A minute? Maybe two? She hoped that was long enough for Bonnie to do whatever she needed to do. Marcy was pretty sure she could keep those assholes busy.

“_No.”_

Bonnie spun around, spreading her arms and looking at Marcy like she was insane. “No”?_ Really?_ Marcy chose the worst times to be stubborn and rational. For just_ once,_ couldn’t Bonnie be the badass one who charged into danger with a half-formed plan while Marcy—the logical one—kept her complaints to herself?

“Oh_ come on,_ ya do–,” she started.

But Marcy was standing there with her mouth slightly open. She hadn’t said anything. Not a single word.

Bonnie could feel the cold again. But it wasn’t from the ghosts. No, the ghosts were still standing in the circle around Willow and Mr. Pigg, completely focused on the unconscious humans. This time the cold was_ behind_ her.

She turned around, her heart beating at an alarming pace._ No. __Not now._ But as Bonnie’s thoughts started to spin out of control, she realized that it was too late. She’d been focusing on the wrong thing, on the wrong_ people._ She should have been paying more attention to the third member of their group.

Angel was standing there, his mouth stretched into an unnaturally large grin that must have hurt his face. It took Bonnie a few seconds to realize why his smile looked so creepy. Angel’s cheeks were cracked open, like someone had sliced cleanly through the sides of his face. It must have been an illusion, but that wasn’t exactly a comfort. It meant the thing inside of him knew exactly how to scare the crap out of Bonnie and it was doing a_ very_ good job.

“Good night,” said Angel-Lich.

He opened his mouth wide, wider than should have been humanly possible. A green fog poured out of him, a thick fog that smelled like rotting flesh.

Bonnie raised the pie cutter. She didn’t know what she planned to do with it. She knew Angel wasn’t _gone. _He was still there, still human, still trapped somewhere inside his head as the Lich piloted his body. And she also knew that a _pie cutter _wasn’t going to do a single thing. But Bonnie held it above her head like she was some kind of hero.

Her body dropped like a sack of rocks, the useless pie cutter falling from her hand.


	22. Wolves and Stuff

Finn had never jumped out of a second-story window before, but there’s a first time for everything.

For a first attempt? Not bad. Finn used to run obstacle courses after work with Jake, an easy way to get his blood pumping. So he was used to falling off platforms and landing safely at the bottom, although mostly by accident. Finn had learned that the best way to survive a fall was to—according to his instructor—curl up into a ball and try not to land on his head.

Unfortunately, Finn didn’t really have time to think about his technique. He was already out the window before he even realized that he was on the second floor of a building. It was only when his foot landed on empty air that Finn remembered. And then he was falling like a dead weight and screaming his lungs out.

He landed in a crumpled heap on the ground. The impact punched the wind out of his lungs and pain spiked through his limbs and chest._ Oh Grod._ It was only two stories, but Finn felt like he’d tumbled down a flight of stairs. Finn had landed pretty much face-first in the bushes next to a dumpster.

Hollyhock dropped down a few inches away, dangling off a rope. She let go and gently fell to the ground, her eyebrow quirked at Finn.

“Um, okay?” said Hollyhock.

Finn wriggled around, disentangling himself.

“What the crease?” he said.

He had no idea how Hollyhock had somehow managed to grab a rope from her bag, loop it around something, and confidently plunge out that window while a bunch of creepy deer-things were chasing her. Well, she_ was_ a professional.

Hollyhock pulled a pocketknife out of her bag. She slashed through the rope, severing it at the highest point she could reach. Those deer-things couldn’t climb, but Hollyhock wasn’t taking any chances.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Hollyhock.

She grabbed something she had clipped to her back and tossed it at Finn. It was his sword.

“You forget this, dummy,” she said.

Finn scrambled out of the bush and grabbed the sword._ Holy crease._ He’d been so focused on the cassette player and the tape that he forgot all about the sword.

“Thanks,” he said. “That—that’s awesome of you.”

Hollyhock shrugged, like she’d taken the obvious course of action. What was she_ supposed_ to do? Just leave the sword and let those deer-things eat it or whatever they did?

“Whatever, dude,” said Hollyhock. “You wanna die? Because staying here is how we die.”

Finn started running, the sword dragging behind him. His gut reaction to this whole thing was dousing the building in gasoline and lighting it up. Sure, it was his parents’ legacy. But on the other hand,_ evil creepy deer._ Finn was sure his parents would have understood.

“So, uh, plans?” said Finn.

Hollyhock was ahead of him. She wasn’t sure how long they had before the deer realized they’d escaped. Those things might have been hell incarnate, but they weren’t exactly smart. In Hollyhock’s personal estimation, those things were about as intelligent and aware as any large predator. They understood basic stuff, like_ kill_ and_ chase_ and_ hide._ If their prey vanished, they’d either give up—not likely—or destroy the house looking for them.

“Get the plops away from all this junk?” said Hollyhock.

Finn nodded. He was looking forward to getting back to Simon’s house, figuring out what Betty was up to, and being the hero that solved this whole mess. And listening to that cassette tape.

Hollyhock stopped in her tracks, almost tripping over her own feet with the abrupt stop.

“Oh _bite me,” _she said.

She started fumbling with the quiver, muttering about the supreme level of bullcrap the world had turned into. This was _not _what she signed up for when she became a hunter. In fact, it was pretty much the extreme opposite of the job description. Hollyhock was supposed to be running through the forest, maybe riding a moose or something and taking down creatures with her bow and arrow. That had basically been her life ever since she became a hunter.

Finn stared, his grip on the sword faltering. First creepy deer, now _this? _When was this day going to end?

A wolf was standing a few feet in front of them. A massive wolf on its hind legs. It was about the size of an adult human. Kara was the buff-est person Finn knew, but this wolf probably could have taken her. Its entire upper and lower half were covered in thick rippling muscle that bulged out of its fur. It was wearing a ripped dress that was barely clinging to its massively buff wolf form. Its paws looked weirdly deformed, almost heart-shaped.

“Werewolf?” said Finn.

Strangely, he was more okay with this. It was just_ one_ werewolf—or whatever—and not a horde of them. Honestly, Finn was feeling pretty lucky after that close call. He would have taken on two werewolves over those deer-things any day.

“Kind of?” said Hollyhock.

She pointed her loaded bow at the wolf. The wolf had been just standing there before it spotted them, its massive back facing them. At the sound of Hollyhock’s voice, it whirled to face them. There was disgusting pinkish yellow saliva dripping from its mouthful of huge pointed teeth.

Finn quirked a skeptical eyebrow at Hollyhock. Not to brag, but Finn had seen about a thousand horror movies over the course of his life. Finn knew a werewolf when he saw it. Then again, since when did anything in this bizarre world of the supernatural make sense?

“It’s a hug wolf,” said Hollyhock. “A big one.”

The wolf was staring at them, its huge round eyes focused on Hollyhock. It wasn’t going to be easy to take down. Unlike the deer-things, this thing retained some of its human senses. It probably—at least vaguely—understood that Hollyhock was pointing a weapon at it, a weapon that could have seriously wounded or killed it. And it was waiting for her to do something before it attacked. But if Hollyhock or Finn tried to move past it, it would instantly go into kill mode.

Hollyhock furrowed her brow. Where the heck were those things coming from? The woods? That made sense. The woods must have been emptying out, the creatures sensing that something big was happening. This was turning into a real pain in the ass.

“A hug wolf?” said Finn. “That sounds really cute and friendly? Gotta ask consent before hugging on these buns though.”

Hollyhock snorted. She was so glad she was there to save Finn from himself. He wouldn’t have lasted a second in the woods.

“No, dude,” said Hollyhock. “More like_ crushing you to death._ With its big powerful wolf arms. And maybe eating you? I don’t know.”

Finn laughed nervously._ Oh._ Death hugs. That sounded like a particularly unpleasant way to die.

“So what do we do?” said Finn.

Hollyhock shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she said.

The last word was barely out of her mouth before she was firing an arrow.

The wolf had clearly been expecting an attempted head shot. It automatically ducked, like it expected the arrow to somehow curve towards its neck or forehead. It opened its mouth and let out a strangled howl of agony, flecks of pinkish yellow drool flying out of its mouth as the arrow went straight through its right knee.

Hollyhock lowered the bow, her brow furrowed.

“Whoops,” she said.

She was trying to stun it. The best part about hunting in the woods? Everything in there—well, except the ghosts—were flesh and blood. All she needed was her bow and arrow, a friendly steed of her choosing, and some arcane knowledge. It wasn’t rocket science. Unfortunately, there was_ always_ room for stupid mistakes.

Hollyhock grabbed Finn’s arm.

“They’re gonna swarm,” she said.

She’d been aiming to stun it. In hindsight, she probably should have gone for the neck. But Hollyhock didn’t want to actually_ kill_ the thing if she could help it. She’d made that mistake once before and it almost broke her.

Finn wasn’t moving. He was staring at the injured hug wolf, his mind going in a million different directions.

“Is that, like, a human?” he said.

Hollyhock looked away, gripping Finn’s arm. She wasn’t trying to pull him away, even though she knew they had to leave. She knew Finn wouldn’t go if he didn’t want to.

“Yeah,” said Hollyhock. “But not_ right now,_ okay? It’s not human_ right now_ and it probably wants to, like, toast our sweet human buns.”

Finn took a step towards the hug wolf. Hollyhock was right. The thing wasn’t human. It was a ruthless killing machine. But Finn wondered how it_ became_ a killing machine. Did it even know what it was doing? Was there a human mind inside that hug wolf, scratching and scraping at the inside of its brain? If Finn had been in this position, would he have wanted Jake to just kill him?

He held up a hand.

“Hey,” he said. “Are you good? Are you okay?”

The hug wolf was panting, its eyes on Finn. Or maybe it didn’t see him. Maybe there was a human person staring out from behind those eyes, watching this other human approach and trying to force words through its stubborn wolf mouth.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” said Finn. “You’re not, like,_ evil_ evil. You’re just a buff baby boy. Or girl. Like me. I get it.”

Hollyhock was looking around. She didn’t have to deal with hug wolves very often, but they always hunted in packs. If one had escaped the woods, there were probably a bunch of others hanging around. This wasn’t a safe spot. It was right out in the open, in the middle of what would have normally been a busy street in any other part of town.

“Uh, Finn?” said Hollyhock. “We’ve got maybe a minute before we get super dead. Just saying.”

Finn stopped, a few inches away from the panting hug wolf. He suddenly didn’t feel so badass with the sword in his hand. He felt_ open,_ like all of his bones and organs were gaping out of his chest. He was a kid. A teenager. Just last week, Finn had totally failed an important math test. He’d almost beaten Moe’s high score in_ Street Souls II._ He worked at a pizza place.

Hollyhock might have been totally awesome with her bow and arrow, but she was just like him. Once upon a time, she’d been worrying about math tests and video games and working her crappy job. Now they were fighting hug wolves and narrowly escaping death-by-deer. Was this really what Finn wanted to do? Was this really how Finn wanted to spend the rest of his high school and adult life? Why weren’t the adults—like Peter—taking care of this? Why weren’t_ they_ saving the town, saving Jake, saving Finn and Hollyhock from this incredibly messed up situation?

Where were the adults? Dead like Finn’s parents, on important missions like Bonnie and Peter, doing some important arcane stuff like Betty, hiding like Simon. It didn’t matter. Finn and Hollyhock were alone.

Finn finally stepped away from the hug wolf. He couldn’t help them. Not right now. Maybe later, after all of this was over and Finn was brave enough to come back.

“Sorry,” he said.

Hollyhock grabbed his shoulder and the two of them ran without looking back. They could hear the wolves starting to swarm. Dozens of them. If Finn and Hollyhock had waited any longer, they would have been surrounded.

* * *

Hollyhock and Finn made it back to Simon’s house, huffing and red-faced from the run.

Finn bent over and grabbed his knees, sucking in deep breaths. _Holy. Freaking. Crap. _How had he even made it to the house? The last several minutes were just an adrenaline haze, his legs pumping and the sword dragging along behind him. If anyone had seen him—unlikely, as everyone seemed to be hiding in their houses—he must have looked like he was trying to outrun an army. Finn was glad the streets were totally deserted.

Hollyhock squeezed her side and wheezed. She’d never really been an athlete, which kind of made her choice to be a hunter even more baffling. But Hollyhock was used to running away. The woods were relentless, just an endless landscape of trees filled with horrible beasts and weird foliage.

“Hated that,” said Hollyhock.

Finn nodded. Fortunately, nothing had followed them.

Hollyhock put a hand on her bow, squinting in the direction of the house. Her and Finn were standing in the front yard, Finn with his sword and Hollyhock with her limited supply of arrows.

“Uh, is it, like, scary dark?” she said.

She tensed. Now that she had the time to actually stop and look around, she realized that it was getting late. But this didn’t feel like normal darkness. This felt more like something was slowly blotting out the sun. A slow creeping ink falling over the sky. This wasn’t _normal._

How many arrows had she wasted that day alone? It must have only been two, but Hollyhock felt like she should have been more prepared. She still had a hunting knife and her fists. But did that even matter? The entire day had been completely new, throwing Hollyhock for a loop over and over again. If something unexpected happened, there was a good chance her and Finn were going to die.

“Yeah,” said Finn.

He rubbed the back of his neck.

“We almost bit it back there, huh?” he said.

Hollyhock loaded an arrow into her bow, snorting out a laugh. She was itching to fire off an arrow at something. She just didn’t have a target. But whatever was behind this, Hollyhock was starting to feel like it wasn’t just the Lich. Something larger was coming. Or maybe something larger had already arrived.

“Welcome to my world,” said Hollyhock.

Finn flinched at Hollyhock’s casual response. How could she be so_ calm_ about this? How was she not freaking out like, well, a_ normal teenager?_ Hollyhock wasn’t just putting on a brave face for Finn’s sake. She was legitimately unmoved by the fact that they’d almost died about three times in less than ten hours. What would Bonnie have called that? “Desensitization”?_ Geez._ How long had Hollyhock been doing this if she was so numb?

“How did you even get into this junk?” said Finn.

Hollyhock shrugged, testing her bow string. It was good quality. Custom-made. But you could never be too careful.

“My parents,” she said.

A shudder skittered up Finn’s spine. He reached into his pocket and squeezed the cassette tape, his heart rate increasing._ “__My parents”._ That made sense. Kids didn’t just fall into this line of work. It was something people inherited, not something a person_ was._ Had Peter’s parents been the same way? Forcing their son to do this stuff because of a “legacy” or whatever? Finn couldn’t imagine his parents sitting him down and giving him a talk about that kind of stuff. But then again, Finn had been super young when his parents passed. Maybe they would have been pissed off if Finn didn’t follow in their footsteps.

“That’s_ bonzo,”_ said Finn.

Hollyhock shrugged again, like the fact didn’t bother her. And it didn’t, at least not anymore. She’d become so entangled in this stuff over the past few years that it didn’t faze her anymore. Although she had to admit, that was an incredibly messed up way for her parents to open up their world. Hollyhock just never questioned it because her parents were already total weirdos.

“Someone has to protect all my tree peeps,” said Hollyhock. “The woods is sacred.”

She touched Finn’s shoulder.

“We should get inside before we get, like, turned inside out,” said Hollyhock.

The two of them sprinted into the house.

While Hollyhock closed all the curtains, Finn locked every door he could find. He wanted to call Bonnie and ask a dozen questions that she probably couldn’t answer, but his phone wasn’t working. Whatever was causing this unnatural darkness must have knocked out all of their technology.

“You think this is the Lich?” said Finn.

He was handing Hollyhock a massive bag of salt he’d found under the sink in the kitchen. Everyone seemed to be holed up in their houses. It was like everyone sensed that something bad was coming. Which was an especially bad sign, because it meant that things were officially spinning out of control.

Hollyhock grunted, hefting the heavy bag. Simon was prepared for anything, including a demon attack. Not that Hollyhock thought this was just a demon. But putting down lines of salt gave her and Finn something to focus on.

“Nope,” said Hollyhock.

It was pitch black outside. No moon, no stars. Finn and Hollyhock felt like someone had picked up the house and dropped it into the void.

Finn furrowed his brow.

“Where’s Betty?” he said.

He should have checked, but he’d been a little preoccupied. Finn remembered dashing in and out of the library about a dozen times, but he hadn’t been paying attention. He just assumed she was in there, hunched over a book and oblivious to what was happening. He’d been planning to ask her if she had any theories. But now that Finn thought about it, he realized that the library had been totally empty.

His stomach dropped. _Oh crease. _What if the Lich got her? Or one of the many paranormal beasts stalking the neighborhood? It would be all Finn’s fault. Finn’s fault for just leaving her there. Simon would never forgive him. He’d never forgive _himself _for being so reckless and dumb.

“I’m sure she’s okay,” said Hollyhock. “I mean, I have no idea, but…”

She trailed off, ending her sentence with a shrug. What was she supposed to say? Hollyhock couldn’t worry about Betty or Simon or Peter or anyone who might have been out in that unnatural darkness. Hollyhock had to focus on the people she could see.

Finn ran into the library. This time he actually searched it, sprinting between and behind the shelves. He scoured every nook and cranny for any trace of Betty. He wasn’t looking for much. Mostly he wanted proof that she was okay. A note, an open book. _Anything._

But Betty hadn’t just vanished. All of her research—all the books she’d been reading, her notes, etc.–was gone. It was like Betty had packed up and left. At least Finn was pretty sure she hadn’t been snatched or something. But where the heck would she go?

There was a book—a single thick volume—lying on its side by one of the shelves. Betty must have forgotten it, or maybe she meant for someone—Simon, who would have noticed immediately—to find it.

Finn picked up the book and flipped it open. Unfortunately, the whole thing was written in some kind of ancient language. It would have taken forever for Finn to translate. And just to make it even harder, Betty had ripped a few pages out of the book. A huge chunk of the middle section was missing.

Finn frowned. Betty had doodled all over the margins and inside back cover. Weird incomprehensible drawings that didn’t look like any of the arcane symbols Finn had seen so far. And Betty had scrawled some notes over the actual text. “_Enchiridion —- New Timeline —- ???? — Lich — ????” _was one of the few Finn could make out. Everything else was incoherent scribbles.

He wasn’t sure what that meant. And Betty had drawn a few small gemstones under the words. Did it have something to do with the Lich and the book and Billy? Had Finn stumbled across the reason Billy had to die?

Finn swallowed. He’d almost forgotten about Billy’s death. It was something he tried not to think about. Just like that hug wolf, Billy had been a_ person._ Billy’s only mistake had been not donating that book to a museum or something. And now Billy was dead and everyone was scrambling to pick up the pieces. If Finn didn’t fix this, Billy’s death wasn’t going to mean anything. Jake getting possessed wasn’t going to mean anything. But it had to mean_ something._ If it didn’t, what was the point?

He noticed something else Betty had drawn over the text. But unlike everything else, this wasn’t just a random weird doodle. This was an actual sketch, professional artist quality. A detailed recreation of a creature. A horrible beast that could have lurked in Finn’s nightmares.

Finn shut the book, a shiver sprinting up his back. Why did he feel like he’d seen that creature before? No, he hadn’t _seen _it. He’d sensed it. Finn had sensed it a long time ago, crouching at the edge of his dreams or somewhere deep inside his head. And Finn felt like everyone he knew—even Bonnie—had sensed it too, although no one ever talked about it. But until Finn saw that drawing, he couldn’t have told anyone what that creature looked like.

_Betty. _Betty said she was going to fix everything. Simon, the Lich, Jake. She had some kind of big plan. But what did she mean when she said that? Was she going to go back in time? Banish the Lich to another dimension? No, Finn was pretty sure it wasn’t any of that. Betty said she was going to fix_ everything. Everything. _But _how? _And why did Finn suddenly feel so terrified? He _trusted _Betty, didn’t he?

He glanced at the doorway, remembering the unnatural darkness outside and the look on Betty’s face when she told him that she was going to fix all of their problems. No, Finn didn’t trust Betty. He didn’t trust her at all. He never should have thought—even for a second—that she was someone he could trust.


	23. Songs and Stuff

Bonnie slowly cranked her eyes open. She was lying on her side in the cold grass, her hair over her face and a headache throbbing at the back of her skull.

She shifted her position slightly, but she didn’t get up. Her arms and legs felt like lead weights. Every slight movement happened in slow motion, Bonnie queuing up actions in her sluggish brain. Bonnie felt like her head and her body were out of sync. But she could _think. _The gears were turning.

She moved her head a little. Her head was the only part of her that didn’t feel like it was weighing her down. But Bonnie moved slowly, trying to get a look at the world around her without shifting her body.

From where she was, Bonnie could see a light in the unnatural darkness. A huge glow casting everything in an eerie green. Bonnie could finally see two feet in front of her.

Angel-Lich was standing where the ghosts had been a second ago. He was hovering over his—Angel’s—parents, his back to Bonnie. He must have thought Bonnie was still unconscious. Or he assumed that even a fully conscious Bonnie wasn’t a threat. And he wasn’t necessarily _wrong _about that, given how easily he’d kicked her butt—and everyone else—the last time they confronted him.

Marcy was lying a few inches away, lying on her side in the dirt. Either she was unconscious or she was doing a great job of faking it.

Bonnie was mentally kicking herself. _Oh __Glob__. _How did the Lich sneak up on them _again? _Also _“How the heck did he get out of Jake’s body?”_, but that didn’t seem important. What mattered was that the most asshole demon in the world was less then four feet away and Bonnie needed a foolproof plan. This had to end.

Had the Lich killed her friends? Had it killed _Jake? _Bonnie tried not to think about that as she sent her big science brain into overdrive. No, there was no way her friends were dead. Rain was a witch and Peter was a hunter, for Grod’s sake. And Kara had moved an entire couch into Bonnie’s apartment_ by herself_ and she barely broke a sweat. The Dream Team. If something_ had_ happened to them, Bonnie had zero hope for her survival.

Focus._ Focus._ Bonnie shut her eyes and thought about being in her lab. Maybe if she could take herself back there mentally, she could come up with an awesome plan? Bonnie had been in situations like this before. Well, not_ exactly_ like this. But pretty close. Missing the deadline for an essay was_ almost_ like being threatened by a powerful demon, right?

Retreating deep into her mind—and trying very _very _hard not to wonder if Marcy was okay—Bonnie was suddenly in her lab again. There were empty takeout boxes and packages of instant noodles all over her desk, papers all over the floor, and the persistent stink of unwashed lab coats. The persistent stink of _home._

Bonnie swiveled around in her chair. _Okay. _Step One: Identify the problem. Well, that was easy: the problem was that Bonnie didn’t want _Death by Demon _on her tombstone.

Technically this was an ideal situation. Getting the Lich into Angel’s body had always been a huge part of Bonnie’s master plan. The fact that the Lich had ended up in there willingly should have made this a hundred times easier, right? Except thanks to her paralysis problem—although that was slowly wearing off—Bonnie couldn’t perform the binding ritual. She didn’t even have any of her tools, so that whole thing was probably a bust. No, she had to re-calibrate. She had to get the Lich out of Angel’s body—somehow—and start from the beginning.

Bonnie frowned and grabbed a pen. Was she approaching this from the wrong angle? Bonnie was looking at all this demonic stuff like it was science. But science was predictable and simple, at least for Bonnie. Demons were a spectrum between weird and completely bonkers. It was like the most difficult math problem Bonnie had ever solved. But she _always _solved her math problems.

If the Lich was jumping from body to body, that meant its original body—if it even had one—must have been destroyed a long time ago. Bonnie couldn’t imagine how anyone pulled that off, but she doubted that was the answer she was looking for. She didn’t want to _destroy _Angel, especially since she had no idea if destroying him was going to get rid of the Lich. No, she needed to keep thinking outside the box. What _was _the Lich? How was she—a human—supposed to defeat a nameless and shapeless beast of pure evil?

What did Bonnie have on her? She was pretty sure she had a single vial of holy water—not very useful—and maybe some salt that Rain insisted she carry. Maybe she could rig up a makeshift barrier, trapping the Lich in a circle of salt and holy water? But trapping the Lich wasn’t going to work forever. It _could _buy her some time, which was what Bonnie really needed. Time to run away and grab something more useful. Except this entire plan—start to finish—depended on the Lich not noticing her.

Bonnie was scrawling diagrams on the paper in front of her. Circles and squares and a crude representation of the Lich’s position relative to her. She was calculating how close she could get before the Lich noticed. Assuming she didn’t trip over a branch and fall on her butt, which was definitely on the table? Bonnie had a window of about a minute—maybe less—to bridge the gap. And there was no way she could run that fast without the Lich hearing her. But maybe if she moved slowly, _very _slowly… Yeah, that could work. It was going to be torturous, but it wasn’t like Bonnie was in any position to sprint.

And once she was within range, she did—_what?_ The only tools Bonnie had on hand—besides the pie cutter—were the salt and the holy water. Completely useless. Maybe she could distract the Lich for a few seconds by spraying it with holy water, but that was kind of pointless if it was just her.

She needed some kind of defense. A way to get close to the Lich without risking her life. But what could possibly be more powerful than a creature of pure evil and destruction?

She frowned and crossed out the top half of her crude diagram. She left the bottom half, a small sketch that depicted the Lich standing in front of Angel’s unconscious parents.

_What if…?_ No, that was dumb. Dumb_ and_ reckless. Bonnie only had one shot at this. She didn’t get to hit the redo button and try again after the Lich toasted her buns. But_ what if…?_

Bonnie scrawled a heart above her Lich sketch. If the Lich was a being of_ pure_ evil and destruction, there was only one force that could oppose it, only one thing that could protect Bonnie from the Lich’s influence. How had she not realized it before? It was literally the basis of her initial plan and her original hypothesis. But Bonnie had been thinking small, plus she was on a time crunch. Now that she had some wiggle room, a whole canvas of possibilities was spread out in front of her._ She could do this._ If this worked—and it_ would_ work, she would_ make sure_ it worked—Bonnie might be able to end all of this.

She crossed out the Lich’s face. Every part of this plan was desperate and stupid, but Bonnie didn’t have a choice. Marcy was probably counting on her. And for Jake’s sake, Bonnie had to stop the Lich. If this didn’t work, Bonnie was totally dead. But it was better than nothing.

Bonnie opened her eyes. She was still lying on her side. That entire brainstorming session had felt like hours, but it must have only been two or three minutes. Bonnie worked fast when she was under pressure.

She slipped a hand into her bag, her eyes still focused on Angel-Lich. The ghosts were gone. The Lich must have scared them away.

She wriggled the vial of holy water out of her bag and into her hand. Or at least Bonnie_ hoped_ it was the vial of holy water. She was moving slowly and carefully, relying on her sense of touch as she focused on Angel-Lich.

Angel-Lich raised both of his hands.

“Rise,” he said.

Willow and Mr. Pigg immediately snapped out of unconsciousness. They sat up, Willow rubbing her eyes and Mr. Pigg staring in confusion at his large son.

“Angel, what–?” Willow started.

She stopped, the color draining from her face and the light leaving her eyes. For a second, Bonnie was afraid that Angel-Lich had killed his—Angel’s—parents. But Willow and Mr. Pigg weren’t dead, even though their eyes were completely vacant. The two of them were still moving, their movements slow and jerky as if they were being yanked by puppet strings. The Lich had taken control of them.

Bonnie shuddered involuntarily. She really_ really_ needed Marcy. She wasn’t sure she could do the second half of this plan by herself. In fact, Bonnie was almost certain she couldn’t do the second half on her own.

Bonnie reached over—her eyes still on the Lich’s back—and poked Marcy’s chest. Marcy’s skin was cold and her heart wasn’t beating, but that was pretty normal for a vampire. How was Bonnie supposed to know if Marcy was awake or alive?

Marcy opened her eyes and exhaled. She apparently hadn’t been unconscious or anything, which made sense. Even the Lich wasn’t powerful enough to subvert the bizarre rules of vampire anatomy. But Marcy had been completely paralyzed. At the light touch, her eyes swiveled to stare at Bonnie’s face.

“You good?” said Bonnie.

Marcy took a minute to respond. She opened her mouth to say_ yes_ and give a thumbs-up, but she stopped herself at the last second. Marcy knew what would happen if the Lich realized that both of them were awake.

“Fantastic,” said Marcy.

She glanced at Angel-Lich. Marcy’s first instinct was to grab the largest branch she could find and charge directly at Angel-Lich. That was how she dealt with most of her problems. But Marcy could tell that Bonnie had a plan brewing. Something reckless and incredibly dangerous, which was totally Marcy’s style. Bonnie had finally joined the dark side.

“So how are we gonna bust this guy?” she said.

Bonnie told Marcy the entire plan. And just as Marcy suspected, it_ was_ incredibly dangerous and reckless. Even more dangerous and reckless than Marcy had anticipated. And Marcy didn’t even really understand her part in it. She understood what Bonnie wanted her to do, but she wasn’t sure how it was going to be helpful.

Bonnie didn’t have time to explain. She trusted that Marcy would do what she wanted, even if it made zero sense. And Bonnie was scared to admit that she was only five percent sure that this was going to work. She was pretty sure Marcy already knew how slim their chances of survival were.

“Ready?” said Bonnie.

Marcy was already climbing to her feet. Her arms were wobbly and her legs felt like oatmeal, but she forced herself to get up. She hated feeling this helpless. At least she didn’t need her arms or legs for what she was about to do.

Bonnie got up slowly. She wasn’t sure she could be fast. But she was going to try. If her hunch was wrong, the Lich was going to stop her in her tracks and maybe suck the soul out of her body. That should have been enough motivation to get her legs pumping.

Angel-Lich turned to face the two girls. The second his eyes were off Willow and Mr. Pigg, the two of them collapsed back into their unconscious state.

“You’ve seen them, haven’t you?” said Angel-Lich. “The things that live in the cracks.”

Bonnie grabbed the sides of her head and grunted. A shrill noise pierced through her skull, cracking her brain wide open. She pitched backwards, a trail of blood spurting from her nose as her vision burned out. She heard Marcy screaming her name, but it was muffled and distant. Bonnie silently begged for the noise in her head to stop.

She saw a pit. A deep dark pit circled in red and orange. A tear in the earth. There were hands reaching from inside, clawed and deformed hands reaching as creatures rolled and climbed over each other in the pit. A wall of flesh, a face covered in mouths, a vaguely humanoid shape with horns. And worse things, things that Bonnie couldn’t describe. She could feel her sanity slipping the longer she stared into the pit. Bonnie could feel the heat of flames lapping at her face and neck as some invisible force bent her forward to stare into the writhing pit.

Bonnie stumbled forward into reality, her breath coming out in anxious huffs.

“Was that supposed to scare me, you_ butt?”_ said Bonnie.

Angel-Lich chuckled.

“No,” he said.

Bonnie shuddered. She felt like something huge was passing over her, like the sky had turned into an actual physical creature that was shifting overhead like a giant hand. But Bonnie couldn’t focus on what might be coming or what was happening in that unnatural darkness. She had to focus on the Lich. If only her head would stop spinning in circles for one second…

Marcy’s voice came through the spinning. Bonnie grabbed it with both hands, holding onto Marcy’s voice to center herself.

Marcy was singing. She didn’t have her bass on her, but that was fine. She let the raw words flow out of her like paint on a canvas, each lyric tugging on a different part of her body. She felt like she was glowing from the inside.

“_Let’s go in the garden. You’ll find something waiting. Right there where you left it, lying upside down.”_

Marcy’s eyes stung with tears. It was the lullaby her mom used to sing her. She could almost hear her mom’s voice. Soft and full of love.

Angel-Lich was frozen in place, his jaw hanging open and the glow in his eyes faltering. It was exactly what Bonnie thought would happen. If the Lich was a being of pure destruction and evil, a mother’s lullaby was the greatest tactic that a creature like him couldn’t defend itself against. The power of love. As pure and uncorrupted as the Lich itself.

Bonnie sprinted, the vial of holy water clutched in one hand and the pie cutter in her other hand. This next part was going to be tricky. And maybe it wasn’t even going to work. But with the Lich frozen and Marcy’s beautiful song in her ears, confidence surged through Bonnie’s entire body. She could do this, she could do this, she could do this,_ she could do this._

“Eat this, ya donk!” Bonnie said.

She grabbed Angel-Lich by the throat. She didn’t even have to force his jaws open. She just pumped all of the adrenaline into her arms, tilting Angel-Lich’s head back with one hand. Bonnie fumbled with the vial for a minute, finally got it open, and poured the entire contents down Angel-Lich’s throat.

Bonnie jumped back and dropped the vial, her heart pumping way too fast. Well, if this didn’t work, she was all out of options. It was her last plan, one single desperate attempt based on a half-formed hypothesis as she stretched her luck to the limit.

Angel-Lich smiled. He wasn’t vaporizing her, which seemed like a good sign on its own.

“There are things larger than me,” he said. “They come through the cracks.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, we know,” she said.

Angel-Lich threw back his head and laughed. He kept laughing, even as his head started shaking and the glow in his eyes faltered. He kept laughing as rotting breath spilled out of his mouth and yellowish liquid started foamed out of his nose.

Bonnie took a step back.

“Gross,” said Bonnie.

Angel-Lich pitched forward, tumbling over his own feet and landing on his face.

Marcy had stopped singing. She was standing there with both fists raised like she was ready to throw down. When Angel-Lich fell over, Marcy lowered her fists and took a step forward.

“Is he, uh, dead?” said Marcy. “Is the Lich gone?”

Bonnie shook her head. She knelt next to Angel’s unconscious body and felt for a pulse. Unsurprisingly, Angel’s heart was still beating at a steady healthy pace. Angel was a strong kid. Stronger than he even realized.

“He’s in there,” said Bonnie.

She touched the back of Angel’s head. That was an oversimplification, but she wasn’t in the mood for an hour-long explanation of exactly what she had done and why it worked. Marcy probably got the gist of it.

Marcy rubbed the back of her neck.

“Should we, um, do something about that?” she said.

Bonnie gave Marcy another head shake. She couldn’t believe that actually worked. They didn’t even need the ritual. Honestly, maybe it was better this way. The ritual was brutal and old, an archaic practice from before even Marcy’s time. Bonnie thought she knew what she was doing, but maybe relying on old magic for a modern problem was the dumbest idea she ever had.

“Angel absorbed the Lich’s essence,” said Bonnie. “It doesn’t have any power. Not anymore. It might manifest itself, but it won’t be able to hurt anyone.”

She spoke like she knew everything, but Bonnie couldn’t even predict the long-term effects. Could Angel still use the Lich’s powers? Could this lead to Angel basically becoming the Lich, starting the cycle over again? No, there was no way that could happen. The Lich was essentially chained inside Angel’s head for eternity. When Angel died, the Lich died with him._ If_ Angel died.

She laughed. The scientific community was never going to believe any of this. But that was okay. The world had finally opened itself up for her. Bonnie was ready to march into a brand new field of study. And maybe fifty or sixty years down the line, she could present her fully-researched paper that proved—without any doubt—that demons, ghosts, vampires, etc. were one hundred percent real.

The unnatural darkness had lifted. Bonnie and Marcy could see the moon and stars again.

Angel lifted his head and groaned. He slowly got to his feet, rubbing his eyes like he’d just woken up from a bad dream.

“Where’s my parents?” he said.

Bonnie pointed at Willow and Mr. Pigg. The two of them were still unconscious, but at least they were alive. Whatever the Lich had done—or tried to do—to them, it probably hadn’t caused any permanent damage.

Angel ran over to his unconscious mom and dad. He immediately started trying to shake them awake. He didn’t look any different. He was still a little kid, confused about the fact that his parents were sleeping on the ground. There was no hint of the creature that had been piloting his body less than five minutes ago.

Marcy patted Bonnie’s shoulder.

“So how about that date?” she said. “My treat.”

Bonnie squeezed Marcy’s hand. A date sounded_ amazing._ As long as it didn’t involve pizza.

“We should check on everyone else,” said Bonnie. “And make sure Finn’s not dead.”

It wasn’t over yet. But if everyone was alive and no one was seriously injured—fingers crossed—Bonnie was totally ready to hit the town with Marceline. Or maybe they could just stay inside. They could crash on Bonnie’s couch and watch movies all night. Maybe they could cuddle, which was—according to Bonnie’s research—an important part of bonding. Bonnie didn’t even care if they were moving too fast. The last few days had wrecked Bonnie’s restraint. She just wanted to have a nice normal date with Marcy and not think about demons.

“Uh, Bonnibel,” said Marcy.

Bonnie leaned against Marcy’s shoulder and shut her eyes.

“Yeah?” she said.

Marcy gently untangled herself from Bonnie.

“The sky’s kind of, um,_ plops,”_ said Marcy.

Bonnie looked up, a frown on her face. For one horrible second, she thought the darkness was back. She thought the moon and stars had been blotted out again. Bonnie didn’t know what she would do if she had to go through this entire thing a second time.

Sometime between Angel running to wake up his parents and Bonnie falling into Marcy’s arms, the sky had turned red. Not sunrise or sunset red. This was a deep shade of blood red, like someone had spilled paint. No clouds or moon. It was just that deep red sky.

Bonnie threw up her arms and groaned.

“Are you for realsies?” she said. “What now?”

What the heck was happening? The Lich was gone, no one was possessed, and everyone had learned their big life lesson for the year. Bonnie even had a potential _girlfriend, _for Glob’s sake. Everything was supposed to be fine. What could possibly be coming?

A massive creature appeared over the tree line. Even from several feet away, Bonnie and Marcy could tell how huge it was. It was about the size of a skyscraper. Its four eyes were arranged in a circle on its cubic head topped with a pyramid, its eyes swiveling in all directions as it floated with its legs crossed.

Bonnie’s heart plopped into her stomach like a boulder.

“_Golb,” _she said.

She fell to her knees as the monster swiveled its eyes to look directly at her. Well, now she knew for sure. This really was the end of the world. Or at least the end of Candace.


	25. Unseen Horrors and Stuff

Bonnie stumbled back, staring at the massive nightmare creature hovering in the sky.

“What the heck is _that?” _said Bonnie.

Well, this was…an unexpected turn of events. Where the heck did _that _thing come from?

Marcy let out a shrill animalistic snarl. She was already going into wolf mode, her nose and mouth elongating into a snout and rows of sharp teeth poking out of her mouth. She wasn’t betting on their survival. But if she could just get really big, maybe distract the thing long enough for Bonnie to pull another one of those brilliant plans out of her butt…

“Aw, geez,” said Marcy. “I can’t—I can’t fight that thing.”

Bonnie grabbed the sides of her head. _Why? Why _was any of this happening? They were _done. _The Lich was gone. Angel and his family were—probably–going to be totally fine. So why wasn’t this over?

“What _is _that thing?” said Bonnie.

Marcy shifted back into her normal form.

“That’s Golb,” said Marcy.

Bonnie dragged both hands through her hair. She could already feel the wrinkles forming. There were bags under her eyes, a nice reminder of all the sleepless nights she’d been having lately. If they somehow made it out of this alive, Bonnie was probably never going to sleep ever again. How could she? All this _science, _this brand new world of paranormal beasts and ghosts and vampires. And knowing that she was never safe, that there were huge unknowable things lurking in the dark corners of the world. Creatures that just wanted to inflict pain and chaos with no real agenda or reasoning. Bonnie was _tired. _So freaking _tired._

“No,” said Bonnie. “No. No. _No. _That’s just a story. Just a stupid freaking story.”

Marcy gestured towards the creature in the sky, her mouth cracking into a strained smile.

“Oh yeah, Bonnibel,” said Marcy. “Totes not real, right?”

Bonnie hugged herself and started shaking her head. _No. _It couldn’t be real. It just _couldn’t be. _Everyone knew the stories about Golb. But those were just mythology, legends, bedtime stories. How could something like that exist in real life?

Marcy grabbed Bonnie by the shoulders and shook her.

“Little help?” said Marcy.

Bonnie backed out of Marcy’s grasp. She wasn’t looking at Marcy. She was staring right past her, staring at that nightmare in the sky and wishing she could do her life over. Bonnie wished she’d never left her uncle’s house. She wished she’d never started working at that pizza place. Max didn’t respect her and no amount of saving his sorry ass was going to change that. What was Bonnie even doing with her life? Just studying and waiting for something better to come along?

“We have to get out of here,” said Bonnie.

Marcy nodded, as if that wasn’t the most obvious plan of action. But she’d been waiting for someone else to say it.

Angel and his newly-awakened parents were crouching a few feet away, Angel whimpering and holding onto his mother.

Bonnie’s heart sank. _Crap. _She’d sort of doomed Angel to an unknown fate. And now they were probably facing a horrible chaotic death at the hands of an unknowable beast. Angel was a good kid. He didn’t deserve any of this. Angel deserved what Bonnie never had: a normal healthy childhood with a loving family.

But it wasn’t just Angel. Finn deserved a chance to grow up, a chance to find love and happiness and be a hero on his own terms. Moe deserved a chance to break out of the monotonous pizza-making lifestyle and finally produce that award-winning video game he was always talking about. Kara deserved a long happy life with her cute girlfriend. Was Kara even alive? If Bonnie made it out of this, how was she going to break the truth to Jermaine? What about Rain’s parents? Kara’s girlfriend? Peter’s friends?

Marcy waved her hand in front of Bonnie’s face.

“Hey!” she said. “It’s not freak-out time, okay? We need your geek skills.”

Bonnie instantly snapped out of it. There was one crucial part of that whole thing she’d missed: _getting out alive. _If Bonnie was going to survive this, she needed to keep her head in the game.

“Okay, so that’s Golb,” said Bonnie. “Why is it here?”

Now that she’d gotten used to the imminent doom hovering over them, this felt like just another weekday. Bonnie was still internally freaking out, but she’d temporarily couched her panic attack. A tactic Bonnie had learned from way too many stressful exams.

Marcy shrugged. The fact that no one really understood Golb was an important part of, well,_ Golb._ An unknowable creature of impossible power and a mind expanded beyond the limits of a single universe.

“Someone must have summoned it,” said Marcy. “I mean, it’s not donking supposed to be here.”

Bonnie squinted at the creature. It wasn’t attacking them. It was just hovering there, almost like it was waiting for instructions or a prompt. That seemed weirdly out of character for an all-powerful creature.

“So someone_ called_ that butt?” said Bonnie. “That’s totes banana-bread. Why the_ heck_ would anyone do that?”

Marcy had zero answers. This was definitely a first. Whoever had called Golb, they must have been super powerful. Or at least very_ very_ determined. Marcy would have been impressed if she wasn’t staring at what was likely the end of the world.

Bonnie grabbed the side of her head, her eyes going wide with realization and anger.

“Oh_ butts,”_ said Bonnie. “_Betty.”_

Marcy immediately opened her mouth, ready to defend Betty’s honor. There was no way Betty would do something like this. Sure, they didn’t know each other. But_ Simon_ knew Betty. And_ Simon_ would have never done this, even if he was desperate and recklessly curious. It was some kind of unspoken Nerd Code.

But then she saw someone approaching through the trees. And if Marcy’s heart had been pumping, it probably would have deflated like a burst balloon. Because she_ knew._ Marcy knew that she was totally wrong about Betty. How could she have been so naive? How could Marcy have not seen this coming?

Simon stopped a few feet away. He was brushing a few strands of hair out of his face, a tattered cloak tied around his shoulders. Even from a distance, Bonnie and Marcy noticed that Simon was crying. The tears fell at a steady pace, each teardrop turning to ice before sliding off his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want this.”

Marcy rushed forward and threw herself into Simon’s arms. She hugged him tighter and harder than she ever had before. She had to stop herself from pouring all of her freakish vampire strength into that hug. Marcy had always been careful with the affection because Simon always looked so fragile. But Marcy didn’t care about that anymore.

She pulled away from the hug, scrubbing the tears out of her eyes with both hands.

“What the_ donk,_ my dude?” said Marcy. “Where have you been?”

Simon ignored the question. He had a lot to say, but nothing seemed important anymore.

“I’ve come for my dear Betty,” said Simon.

Bonnie raised both eyebrows at Simon.

“Wait, she_ really_ did this?” said Bonnie. “For real?”

Simon nodded, his face creased with misery and guilt. He knew this was his fault. He was the one who pulled—_dragged–_Betty into this. Betty could have lived a normal life, a life without all this paranormal stuff. If only she’d never met Simon. If only Simon never found that crown.

Marcy cracked her knuckles.

“Okay, cool,” said Marcy. “I’m gonna go beat it up.”

Simon grabbed both of Marcy’s shoulders.

“No, you can’t–,” he started.

But he was rudely interrupted by the sound of pounding footsteps. Something was charging through the trees towards them.

When they first caught sight of the enormous shape hurtling towards them, Bonnie assumed it was Kara. But the movements were jerky, like the person was top-heavy in all the wrong places. And as they got closer, Bonnie realized that it _definitely _wasn’t Kara.

“What the _stuff?” _Bonnie said.

The thing running towards them wasn’t a person. Or at least it wasn’t a person _anymore. _It might have once been a human being with two arms, two legs, and a head on their shoulders. But now it was a nightmarish amalgamation of arms, legs, and heads all squashed together like someone was getting creative with clay.

The creature barreled straight at Bonnie, as if it sensed that she was the most freaked out.

Bonnie didn’t think. Years of self defense training and scientific experiments had taught her a few important life skills. Bonnie knew _exactly _what to do if something large and aggressive was charging at her: hit it with the biggest thing she could get her hands on.

She grabbed a small branch off the ground and swung it like a bat. A split second before the shot connected, Bonnie worried that the branch was just going to dissolve into the thing’s flesh.

But the blow hit one of the heads—Bonnie hadn’t really been aiming—and it stumbled. It wasn’t hurt, but the blow had stunned it for a second. That second was enough. Bonnie was already dropping the branch and pulling out the trusty pie cutter she’d been wielding this entire time. Bonnie didn’t waste time lining up her shot or thinking anything through. By the time she’d asked herself it this was the best idea, she was already plunging the pie cutter into the creature’s flesh.

The pie cutter wasn’t razor sharp, but the creature’s skin was surprisingly soft. Bonnie had been kind of right about the clay-like texture. Bonnie applied a little pressure and the pie cutter just sank into the creature’s skin like it was made of putty. Fortunately, there was no blood.

Bonnie let go of the pie cutter and stumbled back, throwing up her hands and staring at the creature as it pitched away from her. Even if there was no blood, Bonnie had obviously hurt the thing. It was reeling as if she’d stabbed it with a knife.

“Take that, ya tranch!” said Bonnie.

Marcy watched the creature go down, the pie cutter sticking out of its side.

“What the creasewas that?” said Marcy.

Simon marched past Marcy. He didn’t look shocked or scared or anything like that. He just looked sad and angry, like this entire thing could have been avoided in a million different ways.

“Golb,” said Simon. “Be careful. There’s probably more coming.”

Simon was right. The three of them could already hear more approaching footsteps. It sounded like dozens of those creatures were on their way.

Bonnie pressed a hand against her mouth, holding back a tidal wave of vomit. She’d recognized some of those faces, deformed and twisted. Those were Candace citizens. People Bonnie knew, people from her apartment building. Golb had taken their bodies and turned them into those nightmarish creatures. Was everyone in town like this? What about Finn and all the others?

More of those creatures were swarming out of the trees. Disgusting blobs of mutated flesh, limbs, and heads. The creatures lurched towards Bonnie and the others with animalistic intent, grunting and swaying on their mismatched legs. If there was something human left, it was all tangled up in a shared consciousness.

Bonnie glanced at the one creature she’d taken out. Was it okay for her to be fighting those things? It wasn’t like they_ chose_ this. Were they in pain? Were they still aware of what was happening? Or were they just a mass of jumbled consciousness, desperately lashing out at anything that moved? At what point did that cross the line from “mercy” to “murder”?

Marcy jumped at one of the creatures like an angry dog, her claws extended. She’d gone into wolf form again, her mouth coated with thick yellow saliva. Apparently Marcy was less concerned with moral quandaries and more concerned with getting them the hell out of there. And escaping meant busting heads, which happened to be one of Marcy’s special talents.

She sank her claws into a mound of flesh at the creature’s front. No blood. Her claws just sank into its clay-like skin, disappearing into the disgusting blob. The thing couldn’t even shake her. She was latched on, her hands going deeper and deeper into the thing’s skin like it was trying to swallow her.

“Marcy, no!” said Bonnie.

They didn’t need to kill those things, Bonnie wanted to say. Maybe she could do some science and help them. No, Bonnie_ knew_ she could help them. She’d seen and experienced enough to know that almost anything was possible.

But she shouldn’t have bothered. Marcy wasn’t trying to kill anyone.

Marcy let out an angry growl. She finally let go of the creature, launching herself backwards and away from it. She tilted her head up and howled, her entire body expanding and changing. Her eyes narrowed to snake-like slits, her torso lengthened, her ears became narrow and bat-like. She grew to at least two or three times her normal size, morphing into a huge bat creature with claws and skinny legs.

“Eat it, you butts!” Marcy said.

She started batting the creatures away with her enormous hands. They flew in all directions as Marcy swiped at them like flies. A few of the smaller ones went heads-first into trees and crumpled to the ground, completely knocked out by the blow. The larger ones moved more erratically and managed to evade Marcy’s hands.

Bonnie backed away. How could she have ever thought that Marcy was going to_ hurt_ those things? Marcy wasn’t like the Lich or any of the other creatures Bonnie had faced. Marcy was_ human._ Over a thousand years and Marcy was still_ human._ Bonnie wondered what that was like. She wondered if it was something she would have wanted for herself.

“I need to talk to Betty,” said Simon.

He was staring at Golb, his brow furrowed in determination.

Bonnie grabbed Simon’s shoulder. They both knew Simon was totally right. This wasn’t random. Betty brought that thing to their universe because she thought it could fix everything. Bonnie didn’t even know why or how Betty thought that, but she finally understood Betty’s pain. Scientists were supposed to solve problems. But the one problem Betty wanted to solve, the one thing she wanted more than anything else? It was Simon. Simon alive, Simon unburdened. Just_ Simon._

Bonnie had never loved someone like that before. She didn’t know a single person who was worth possibly tearing apart the universe. But she kind of wished she did.

“Aw_ beans,”_ said Marcy.

She was struggling, desperately kicking her legs and flailing her arms. There were just too many of them. The creatures were climbing all over her, clinging to her legs and scaling too fast for her to just pick them off. Marcy got her hand around one and two more were swarming all over her before she could move.

Bonnie stayed where she was, her heart pumping. What was she supposed to do? There was no way she could fight all of those things. And unlike the Lich, those things weren’t going to hold back. But Bonnie couldn’t just stand there and let them tear Marcy to shreds.

She shut her eyes. Those creatures weren’t coordinated. They were ruled by instinct and their own senses. They couldn’t actually formulate an attack plan or predict what Bonnie was going to do. If she drew them over to her, they would just lurch around and try to attack. There was no pattern to follow, but there was also no trace of strategy. Bonnie was an actual human being with a working nerd brain. That had to count for something, right?

She turned to the only people she hadn’t talked to yet: Willow, Mr. Pigg, and Angel.

“You got a knife?” said Bonnie.

Willow was cowering, but she slipped a hand into the pocket of her apron. She pulled out a kitchen knife with a serrated edge and passed it to Bonnie.

Bonnie had been expecting a butter knife or something, but she wasn’t in any position to be picky. She grabbed the knife and turned it over in her hands. It was technically too big and not really Bonnie’s usual style. But knives were knives. And that thing was _sharp._

She pulled out the little demon-detector device they’d been using to find the Lich. _Holy crap. _How long ago was that? Bonnie didn’t even remember Finn giving the device back to her. It definitely wasn’t her most useful invention. Well, at least it wasn’t until that particular moment in time.

She used the knife to pry open the back. Bonnie didn’t really have time to add all the relevant features. It was basically just a hunk of junk with a purpose. But for once, Bonnie was super thankful. The thing fell apart almost immediately and Bonnie started messing with the parts.

Marcy was buckling under the weight of the creatures. She wanted to shrink down, but Marcy knew it was useless. Being smaller wasn’t going to get her out of this. Being larger probably wasn’t going to save her either.

_It’s fine, _Marcy told herself. Bonnie and Simon and the others were probably running away. At least Marcy made sure the people she cared about were safe. That was the only thing that mattered. Bonnie and Simon were going to fix this. Marcy was just the muscle.

A shrill noise rattled through the air. Marcy grabbed the sides of her head and howled in pain, the sound bouncing around in her eardrums. _What the crease?_

The creatures fell off of Marcy like dead spiders, their limbs flailing desperately as they dropped onto their backs. A few of the creatures tried to get up, but the uneven weight and random placement of limbs kept them down.

Bonnie flinched. She was holding the device over her head. Her ears were ringing, she had the worst headache ever, and she was probably about to puke her guts out. But it _worked. _It fucking _worked._

“Oh, _crease, _Bonnibel,” said Marcy.

She shrank back to her original size and shape. She was human-like again, shaking her head to get the noise out of it.

“How’d you do that?” said Marcy.

Bonnie rubbed her ear. Okay, that was a dumb idea. Sure, it worked. But it was still maybe the dumbest idea she ever had. Bonnie was probably going to have permanent hearing damage. Her ears seemed perfectly fine—although still ringing—for now, but the life-long consequences were going to be brutal.

“Basically a sound bomb,” said Bonnie. “Um, sorry about your sensitive bat ears.”

Marcy shrugged, even though she felt like she was going to pass out. The noise must have effected the creatures and her more than it effected Bonnie.

“You saved me,” said Marcy.

Bonnie nervously played with her hair.

“Of course, you big dummy,” said Bonnie.

She rushed forward and wrapped Marcy up in a hug. There were so many things Bonnie wanted to do. She wanted to kiss Marcy. She wanted to hold her and never let her go. She wanted to escape. She wanted them to have that date Marcy sort-of-promised. Bonnie wanted to know everything about Marcy’s life, including all the ugly details. Bonnie wasn’t even sure she was in love. But she wanted to find out.

Marcy withdrew slightly and kissed Bonnie’s forehead. It was just a little peck. But Marcy worried she was going too fast, that she was being too intrusive and just assuming things.

Bonnie laughed. She touched the spot where Marcy had kissed her. She forgot about the impending doom hovering in the sky above them, she forgot about all the temporarily dispatched flesh monsters. Bonnie needed to explore those feelings, she needed to understand exactly what was happening between her and this sexy vampire lady.

But for Bonnie to do that, she had to make sure there was a later.

“Let’s go get Simon,” said Bonnie.

She tossed her makeshift device to the ground. There was no way that thing was going to work on Golb. Maybe those flesh creatures, but Golb itself? No, they needed a more direct approach. They needed to be prepared.

Bonnie started putting together what was possibly the last plan she was ever going to make.


	26. Battle Scars and Stuff

Simon waved a hand in front of his nose. _Holy crud._ He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't the stink of rotting entrails. That _did_ make sense–he was technically inside a giant creature's digestive system, or at least where a digestive system should have been–but he was still caught off guard. Golb didn't have anything remotely resembling internal organs. So why did it smell so gross in there?

He threw off his cloak, swabbing his brow with one hand. _Okay._ Simon had one job to do. He'd been preparing for this day since, well, since the day he started studying the paranormal. Unfortunately, this wasn't anything like the simulations he sometimes ran in his head. Simon was pretty good at handling those scenarios. But Golb was–literally and figuratively–a different beast. Simon didn't have a magical fail-safe plan. And why would he? Only a truly warped and desperate mind would summon a powerful beast of chaos.

_Betty._ Simon expected more of a reaction when he showed up. Maybe the sight of him would break her confidence, would finally show her exactly what she was doing and why it was a bad idea. But Betty just kept flipping pages, totally engrossed in the Enchiridion. Simon couldn't imagine how she got her hands on that book.

“Betty,” he said.

He crawled towards her, pressing both hands against the walls. He'd basically exhausted his willpower just getting in there. And now that he was face-to-face with his one and only love? Simon didn't know what he could say to her. It had been, what? _Years?_ _Decades?_

Simon still remembered how beautiful she looked the first time they met on that crowded university campus. He didn't want a relationship. People like him–smart, capable, full of ideas and dreams–didn't have relationships. They had divorces and middle school crushes and high school sweethearts who went off and got married to someone else. Or at least that was what Simon told himself. Maybe it would have been better if he kept believing that, if he stayed away from Betty entirely and continued working on his degree. It was ironic, just thinking about how many ways their story could have branched off if Simon had kept the promise he made to himself.

“Betty,” he said again.

He reached for her and Betty looked up.

“I'm almost done,” she said. “Just gimme a ding-dang second, okay?”

Simon jerked his hand back. He used to love that focused look, the way her hair fell over her face when she was engrossed in a book. If he was being honest? He still loved it. Even when the world was falling apart, Simon loved Betty's concentration face.

“No,” said Simon. “Betty, I–”

Betty waved her hand at him, like he was a fly buzzing around her head.

“I can do this,” said Betty. “I can–I can fix it. Just _give me a minute!_”

She let out a frustrated shout, her grip on the book tightening. _What the *crease?_ Why wasn't it working? Betty thought she did everything right. Her calculations were perfect. The dimensional rift, the awakening of old magic.

Simon tried to grab the book, but Betty held it close to her chest.

“You're not real,” said Betty. “Or, I mean, you won't be. If you give me a second.”

Simon shook his head. He should have predicted this. He knew Betty wouldn't stop fighting for him, that she would rather end the world than let him go.

“What are you doing?” said Simon.

Betty opened the book and started flipping through again, adjusting her glasses.

“I can fix it,” she said. “The timeline.”

She lifted her head, a blank look on her face.

“I'm going back,” said Betty. “Before any of this junk happened. And I'm going to make sure it doesn't.”

Simon grabbed the sides of his head. This was what he'd been scared of. It was all of his worst fears rolled into one. A walking talking nightmare.

“Betty, that's bloobers,” he said. “You can't just–just _change everything._ What if you donk it up real bad? What if you unmake the entire universe?”

Betty stopped, her hand resting on a blank page. Her lips cracked into a humorless smile. _Really?_ Did Simon think she was an amateur? Did he think she'd somehow never thought of that, that this simple and obvious truth had escaped her? _Wow._ Simon had completely lost faith in her. He was looking at her like she was some kind of villain, like she wasn't doing all of this for _him._

“Then I'll go back and do it again,” said Betty.

She clenched her fist and stared at the blank page.

“Worst case scenario?” she said. “The timeline restarts and we're not in it. We get thrown out into the void and the entire world starts over again from the very beginning, except we're never in it. But isn't that worth the risk?”

Of course she was being casual. Betty knew there were crappier outcomes. But she was willing to take the risks. For Simon.

Simon reached for Betty's hand, but she yanked it away from him like his skin was poison. He suddenly understood why she didn't want to touch him, why she had squeezed herself into the farthest corner away from him. Betty thought Simon was a mistake. She didn't give a crap about anyone or anything in what she now considered to be a “failed timeline”. In a few minutes, Betty was going to use Golb to rip the universe wide open and hop into a brand new reality, a reality where–she hoped–Simon would never find the crown and they would be happy together.

“I can't let you do this,” said Simon.

Betty shrugged. And how was he going to stop her? They were both inside Golb now, likely trapped unless Golb decided to expel them. Like it or not, there wasn't a single–ethical–thing Simon could do about any of this.

“It's not just the crown,” said Betty. “It's, like, all the things. Jake will never get possessed. Everyone will be okay. Everything will be awesome.”

Simon let out a sad sigh. He'd lost her. He'd known this from the very beginning, but he'd been lying to himself.

“I won't be awesome, Betty,” said Simon. “I definitely won't be awesome.”

Betty flipped open the book, dropping her gaze again.

“Tough beans,” she said. “I'm doing this for _you._

Simon bit his lip. No, she wasn't doing this for him. Maybe in the beginning, before she came up with her bizarre plan. But now? She was doing it for herself, or at least a version of herself that didn't exist anymore. A version of Simon and Betty that had disappeared decades ago.

"I get one wish,” said Betty. “Just one. And with the book, I think I can do it. I can save everyone.”

_Who is “everyone”?_ Simon wondered. Did she mean Simon and Betty? Was she talking about this brand new version of Simon? What about Bonnie and Marcy and everyone else? Jake? Finn? Did she care about them at all? Was there any empathy for all the people who were being effected by what Betty had done in _this_ timeline?

Simon shut his eyes.

“Listen,” he said. “I think I can do a thing. A good thing that'll get rid of this Golb guy. But I need your help. I need you to work with me, my dear Betty.”

Betty twitched like Simon's words physically hurt, but otherwise no response. She was sick of hearing him talk.

Simon _did_ think he had a pretty foolproof plan for dealing with Golb. And he _did_ need Betty's help. But he doubted she was going to care. She'd already made up her mind.

Simon shrank into his corner. He wasn't giving up. But he was also starting to doubt he was ever getting out of there. He could spend an eternity trying to convince Betty that she was wrong and it would be a waste of his final moments.

* * *

Bonnie was pacing. Maybe not the best time to pace–she was basically in the middle of a battlefield–but she needed to move and think.

“I have a plan,” she said.

No, that was kind of inaccurate. She had an _idea_ that could maybe be a _plan_ if she was willing to bet on the best possible outcome. Unfortunately, even the best possible outcome looked pretty frigging bleak. In Bonnie's defense, this was miles out of her wheelhouse.

Marcy swatted away another glob of flesh and limbs. She was getting better at fighting those guys. And by “fighting”, she meant “pummeling”. Those things just kept charging. Mindless and staggering and pretty easy to defeat, but it was still so _annoying._ Fortunately, vampires couldn't get tired. Marcy would have passed out thirty minutes ago.

“Awesome,” said Marcy. “Can we do it, like, _now?_”

She didn't care what it was. At this point, she could get behind just setting the orchard on fire. Two birds, one stone.

Bonnie shook her head. She was looking at the facts: they were exhausted, Simon was trying–and probably failing–to get through to Betty, and Golb was looming over them. What options did they have? Only three, and two of those involved running away and waiting for someone else to deal with their problems. If Bonnie had done that with the Lich, they would all be super dead by now.

“It's risky,” said Betty. “Like _really_ bonzo-beans.”

Marcy let out a wild laugh, dodging the arm of another flesh beast.

“Bonnie, I honestly don't give a donk anymore,” said Marcy. “We do it or our buns get toasted.”

Bonnie shrank against a tree.

“It's simple,” she said. “One of us needs to get inside Golb and make a wish.”

She drew shapes with her fingers, wishing she had a chalkboard or something. Bonnie didn't even have a stick and some soft mud. This day was just the worst.

“If I'm right, we should be able to, well, _absorb_ it,” said Bonnie.

Marcy paused. Okay, not what she thought Bonnie was going for.

“Uh, absorb _Golb?”_ she said.

Bonnie looked away. She didn't want to say this part, because she knew exactly how this was going to go down. She felt like she'd known Marcy for a thousand years. Or at least Bonnie knew Marcy's type. This next part was going to prove that.

“Yeah,” said Bonnie. “If one of us absorbs Golb's essence, we can–we can merge our consciousness and just–just leave. We'll only have a short window of opportunity, before our mind gets absorbed.”

Marcy picked up one of the flesh things and tossed it against a tree. She watched it hit the tree and slide to the ground, completely knocked out by the impact.

“And what would happen to us?” said Marcy quietly.

Bonnie chewed her bottom lip. _Crap._ Why did she say that? She didn't even know if it would work, if it was even possible. But deep down, Bonnie kind of knew that it would. She'd read enough and seen enough to have faith.

“You'd be–you'd be gone,” said Bonnie. “Golb would absorb your mind and you'd just be–you'd be a part of it. You wouldn't remember anything.”

She said “you” because she knew what was coming next. She knew exactly what Marcy was going to say. And she knew exactly what _she_ was going to say. Bonnie was going to beg, she was going to say a bunch of things and make tons of promises. She was going to cry harder and longer than she ever had in her entire life. She was going to fall to her knees and put her face in the grass and sob her eyes out. And all because Bonnie just couldn't keep her mouth shut, because she felt compelled to tell Marcy what one of them had to do.

Marcy turned to the giant creature in the sky, slowly retracting her claws.

“Simon,” said Marcy.

Bonnie blinked. She raised her hand and swabbed her eyes, catching some of the impending tears.

“What?” she said.

Marcy stepped away from Bonnie, her brow furrowed.

“Simon will do it,” she said. “I know he will. If it gets rid of Golb.”

Bonnie started to say something, but she stopped. _Holy crap._ Marcy was right. Simon had to have considered the possibility. That was the real reason he'd gone in there, right? Because if he couldn't convince Betty, he was ready to try something drastic. And even if he _did_ convince Betty, it wasn't like Betty could un-summon Golb. They needed an actual game plan.

“And you're–you're okay with that?” said Bonnie. “For real?”

Marcy sighed. She knew exactly what Bonnie had been thinking. But Marcy wasn't desperate and shortsighted like Betty. The second Simon had made his plans known, Marcy had started to suspect his end goal. And with Bonnie's plan in front of her, Marcy finally put the pieces together.

“No, obviously,” said Marcy. “But what am I gonna do? That thing needs to get dead. For reals this time. And if Simon really wants to do that….”

She squeezed her arm and stared at the ground, chewing her bottom lip.

“I can't exactly stop him,” said Marcy.

She wished she could have said goodbye. But a part of her was glad she didn't. A tear-filled goodbye would have made the whole thing more tragic. Simon must have known that.

“So what do we do, like, _now?_” said Marcy.

She squinted. How were there _more_ of those things? Marcy and Bonnie had been fighting them for, what? The last thirty minutes? And Marcy could hear more coming. How many of those disgusting flesh amalgamations were there? Was this the entire town? Was the entire town just those flesh things? Was everyone dead?

Bonnie's stomach flipped over. She was thinking the exact same thing: had everyone in town been turned into those gross creatures? Were Bonnie and Marcy the only ones who'd been spared?

Marcy got out her claws and fangs again, turning towards the sound of more pounding footsteps. Okay, this was definitely a shitty plan. They were too out in the open, too exposed. They needed to get back to the house.

But it wasn't more of those flesh creatures. It was way worse.

“What the _blee-blop?_” Bonnie said.

She raised both of her fists. Just when she thought this day-night-whatever couldn't get anymore banana-bread? _Of course_ it could get more banana-bread.

It was a wolf. A wolf with deformed paws–they looked like hearts for some reason–and standing on its hind legs. The thing was all muscle, its arms and legs bulging grossly with its massive bulk. Bonnie knew wolves were huge–larger than people thought they were–but this thing was a _giant._ Standing on its hind legs like that, it was basically the size of a tree.

“What the junk is that thing?” said Bonnie.

Her head was going in circles. How many times had she asked that in the past two hours?

“Hug Wolf,” said Marcy.

She almost sighed in relief. _Finally!_ Something she could actually fight. The flesh creatures were technically easy, but there were so many of them. Going one-on-one with a Hug Wolf for the first time in forever seemed way easier than taking on a battalion of those flesh things.

In her wolf-like form, Marcy was only an inch shorter than the Hug Wolf. Not that size mattered. She'd wrestled with those things before. The average Hug Wolf was a pushover compared to her.

She grinned, showing off her teeth. Marcy was slightly disappointed. She'd been betting on more of a challenge, something to really sink her teeth into. But _one_ Hug Wolf? Definitely not the exciting match-up she was aiming for. Hey, at least she got a well-deserved break from batting those flesh creatures around. Yeah, it _was_ kind of weird, just fighting a single Hug Wolf and…..

Marcy stopped, her arms dropping to her sides. She was about a foot from the Hug Wolf, preparing to barrel right into it and sink her teeth into its neck.

_Oh. Crap._ Marcy almost forgot the rules. She almost forgot how shitty this day had been and how it could only get worse.

Hug Wolves always traveled in packs. There was no such thing as a “lone Hug Wolf”. If there was one, there had to be at least a dozen nearby.

Marcy and Bonnie could hear shuffling in the trees, the sound of paws on grass. By Bonnie's estimate, there were at least five or six creatures heading in their direction. More Hug Wolves. They must have been attracted by whatever unknowable force had pulled those flesh creatures towards them. And if there were Hug Wolves, there had to be worse beasts out there. Things that could fly, things that could hop down from the trees.

Angel and his parents were all huddled together in a heap, scared to move. The noises were coming from all around them. It sounded like more than a few Hug Wolves.

“_Butts,”_ said Marcy in frustration.

She sprinted towards Angel and his parents. Without pausing, Marcy picked up Angel–vampire strength–and plopped him onto her back.

“We gotta move,” she said.

She glanced at Golb. She hated the thought of leaving Simon. Sure, they weren't _leaving_ leaving. But Marcy couldn't shake the feeling that she was abandoning him when he needed her. She should have followed him in there. Maybe they could have both talked sense into Betty. Or at least knocked her out and stopped whatever insanely dangerous plan she was trying to pull off.

Bonnie was helping Mr. Pigg and Willow to their feet, her gaze cutting between them and the Hug Wolf that was standing a few feet away. Bonnie couldn't tell if it was waiting for its buddies or if it was about to go into attack mode when they tried to bolt. Either way, she was terrified. And they were running out of time.

Marcy looked at Bonnie and the others. She listened to Angel sobbing in fear right next to her ear. _No._ Marcy had people she needed to protect, people who didn't have anything to do with this bullshit. Willow and her family were just normal Candace citizens. And now Angel was basically being used as a living prison for one of the most powerful demons in existence. Marcy was constantly fighting with herself over whether or not she was doing the right thing. Well, the right thing was making sure the people she cared about didn't get hurt. It was what Simon would have wanted.

The four of them–minus Angel, who was being carried–ran for their lives. The Hug Wolf tried to stop them, but Marcy–with Angel desperately clinging to her–grew to five times her normal size and snarled, batting the wolf away. The wolf flew several feet from the blow, uninjured but stunned. Stunned long enough for Marcy and everyone else to escape.

Marcy and Bonnie had no idea where the house was, but Willow knew the way. She led them back to the house. No unfortunate encounters on the way.

Marcy went in first. She burst through the door, Angel still clinging to her as she crossed the threshold. The house wasn't safe. Marcy would have been lying to herself and everyone else if she said it was. But it was better than being out in the open when the Hug Wolves swarmed. Walls, doors, and windows could be reinforced. Human bodies were another story.

Bonnie was right behind Marcy, her entire body shaking and the front of her shirt soaked with sweat.

“Home sweet–,” Bonnie started.

Angel screamed right next to Marcy's ear, cutting her off.

Marcy groaned and grabbed the side of her head. _Holy crap._ Marcy was pretty sure she was completely deaf now. First Bonnie pulled that stunt with the sound bomb, now Angel had shrieked almost directly into her sensitive ears. “Permanent hearing damage” was _not_ an expected side effect of this incredibly bad day.

“Aw, geez,” she said.

She raised her head to see what Angel was screaming about. Her vision was shaking at the edges and she felt like her brain was rattling around in her skull.

The house wasn't empty. There were four people crammed into the cottage-sized space.

Willow reached into the pocket of her apron and dug out a fork. She pointed it at the strangers. She was probably the shortest person there–even shorter than her young son–but she looked like she was in a stabbing mood.

“What are you doing in my house?” she said.

Bonnie grabbed Willow's arm. Her heart was bouncing in her chest.

“They're with us,” said Bonnie.

Peter was kneeling beside the kitchen table. He would have rushed over to Bonnie and hugged her, but he had his hands full. Peter was busy sewing up a gash in Kara's arm, his fingers steady. He glanced up from his work for a second, nodding and flashing a grim smile at Bonnie.

Kara tried to grin, but it was halfhearted. She was pretty banged up. She had two black eyes and there were bandages around her left wrist and hand. Her face was covered in scratches, bruises, and pink band-aids. Kara's shirt was gone, so she was just sitting there in her sports bra and jeans. There were bruises all over her stomach and chest.

Rain was sitting on the floor in front of the fridge. She had a bowl and a large wooden spoon in her hand. Rain was mashing up stuff she grabbed from the fridge and cupboards. Whatever she was making, it smelled like cinnamon, ginger, and apple sauce. She was too absorbed in her work to even look at the five people who had just entered the house.

Jake was sitting on the floor. He smiled at Bonnie, a more genuine–but still very strained–smile. He had a blanket wrapped around him, he wasn't wearing any shoes, and there were bags under his eyes. Two of his fingernails were missing, Bonnie noticed. There had to be a story there.

Jake had only been possessed for less than two days, but he looked like he hadn't slept in a million years. Marcy knew _she_ was the resident vampire, but somehow Jake looked even more dead than she did. She wouldn't have been surprised to learn that he'd crawled out of a crypt two hours ago.

“Hey, what's up?” said Jake weakly.

Bonnie charged across the room and gave Jake a bone-crushing hug. She didn't have time to wonder if he was physically okay enough for her to hug him like that. She just needed to touch him, needed to make sure he was real._Holy crap._ Jake was _alive._ He was actually _alive._

Jake didn't hug her back. He just sat there with his arms pinned to his sides until Bonnie let go of him.

“Are you okay?” said Bonnie.

Jake let out a small laugh.

“Nope,” he said. “Absolutely-hundred-percent not okay. But I'm here. Good times.”

Rain rushed over with the bowl of mashed up ingredients.

“You need to eat this,” she said. “It will keep your head clear.”

Jake took the bowl from Rain without saying anything. He stuck his hand in, scooping out some of the smooth mush. He shoved it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed without looking at Rain.

Bonnie bit her lip. Okay, Jake was clearly still at least somewhat out of it. But of course he was. Bonnie had–thankfully–never been possessed, but she suspected it was like being trapped in your own body. You couldn't really talk or scream or stop yourself. You just had to sit back and watch that thing–the Lich–force you to hurt your friends or even yourself. It must have been soul-crushing. Bonnie wondered how much therapy Jake would need. Probably more than her, if that was even possible.

She shook her head. No, that was totally nuts. There was no way she could tell a therapist about this. None of them could. It sounded like a fantasy novel or a low budget student film. They would diagnose her with “dangerous delusions” and shove a bunch of pills down her throat. Bonnie hated to admit it, but she would have done the exact same things if the roles were swapped. If she'd been a therapist and one of her patients had come to her with this bizarre story, she would have assumed they were a danger to themselves and possibly others. Bonnie would have prescribed a ton of meds and pushed them into a mental asylum. How could Bonnie expect anyone with a degree and decades of training to believe any of this?

“So what are we doing, gang?” said Jake. “We gonna mess it up?”

Marcy was shutting the curtains, as if that would somehow make a difference. At least they didn't have to stare at Golb while they strategized.

“Sure,” said Marcy. “As soon as we figure out how to mess up those bingo-bongos.”

Rain shook her head, leaning back with the bowl in her hands.

“We can't beat those things,” she said. “If we go back out there, we're toasted.”

Peter glanced at his shotgun. It was leaning against the counter, totally empty and useless. No more bullets. Even with the shotgun, they barely got out of there alive. If the house hadn't had a first aid kit and a sewing kit, Kara would definitely be dead. And now they were just…._trapped._

“Can we get back to the car?” said Bonnie. “That's a plan, right?”

Peter did some quick calculations in his head.

“Um, not really?” he said. “I mean, we could give it a shot. If those things haven't wrecked it.”

He shuddered. The possibility hadn't even occurred to him until he said it. But what if those creatures had totally destroyed the car? That was really their only way out at this point.

“So what are we doing?” said Jake.

He hadn't asked about Finn yet. He wanted to know, but he was scared shitless of the answer. Finn was the toughest kid Jake knew. Not the smartest, but definitely a fighter.

Jake sighed. Finn shouldn't _have_ to be a hero. Jake should have been there to protect his younger brother. But Jake had made all the wrong decisions for the right reasons. They could have left town, maybe moved in with Jermaine or something. Jake could have gotten a more steady job, something they could rely on. But of course Jake just couldn't do those things. He wasn't ready to be a parent, so he didn't even try.

Peter opened his mouth to answer–although he was equally clueless–but he was interrupted by loud banging. It didn't sound like knocking, even though it came from the direction of the door. It sounded like something was hurling its body against the door, trying to splinter the wood.

_“Son of a blee-blop!”_ Marcy said.

She shoved her entire body against the door and growled.

_Crap._ How did those things find them so quickly?

Rain and Bonnie grabbed the kitchen table and rushed to board up the only window. Willow and Mr. Pigg ran to take care of the bedrooms and grab supplies from the bathroom.

Kara sagged in her chair. She felt useless. Well, at least she wasn't dead. Frieda would have absolutely freaked out if her girlfriend died to a bunch of supernatural monsters in an apple orchard. Not that Kara could tell her awesome scientist girlfriend the full story. Frieda was great, but there was no way she was going to believe any of this. How was Kara supposed to explain her injuries? Any lie she could come up with sounded only marginally less insane than the truth.

Decision made. After all this was over, Kara was going to live with Frieda on the island. Yeah, it was way too far away, there was no cell reception, and the Internet was bullshit. So she was probably going to lose contact with all of her buddies from the pizza place. But honestly? Kara didn't give a crap. She just wanted to be with her girlfriend, somewhere far away and relatively safe from all this supernatural stuff. Kara wanted science and reason and isolation and a dead-end security job.

Jake stood up, holding the blanket tight across his shoulders like a cape.

“Uh, anyone have a phone?” he said. “Like, a good one?”

It was the only actual request he'd made since waking up. Jake had been keeping his mouth shut for the past several minutes, trying to process what had happened to him. It didn't seem real. When Jake tried to look back on it, his memories were all jumbled. He thought he'd been standing over a hole at some point, staring into an abyss that glowed green. And he'd seen flashes of stuff that couldn't possibly be real: Finn with his pupils glowing and a crown on his head, Bonnie filling up a bathtub with chemicals, Angel turning into the Lich. And images of a desolate wasteland, a mushroom cloud on the horizon, skeletons and charred bodies, Marceline old and feeble, a skeleton wearing a crown and frozen in ice.

Peter pulled his phone out of his pocket. The screen was cracked, yet it still worked. Barely, but it worked. He tossed it to Jake without looking.

“Is someone gonna help me, you butts?” said Marcy.

Peter ran over to Marcy and threw himself against the front door, helping her keep it shut. It sounded–and felt–like there were several people trying to break in, a ton of bodies slamming themselves against the closed and locked door. Peter was genuinely scared that the door might just give in from the onslaught.

Jake's hands were shaking. Jake had never been the responsible parent or sibling. He was always doing the wrong thing and he could almost feel the judgment from Jermaine. No, not just Jermaine. Everyone in Jake's life thought he was a fuck-up, at least in regards to raising Finn. And he was. Jake freely admitted that. So what was the non-fuck-up thing to do here?

Jake chewed his bottom lip. If he texted Finn, Finn would definitely come running. He'd put himself in danger so he could see his older brother. And if Jake asked him not to come, to stay somewhere safe? Finn would ignore it and do his own thing, because that was just the kind of person Finn was. Nothing in Heaven or Earth could stop Finn.

He put down the phone. It killed him to do this, but did Jake actually have a choice? No, he didn't. If Finn died or got seriously hurt because of him, it would mean that he totally failed his parents. For once in his life, Jake didn't want to be selfish. He wanted to be the one who made the right decision.

The phone rang and Jake almost dropped it. He scrambled to grab it, jamming it against his chest and staring at the cracked screen. _What?_

“Uh, phone?” said Jake.

He offered it to Peter, but Peter and Marcy were kind of busy. Jake was the only person who–due to having been, well, _possessed_ earlier–wasn't actually helping. Other than Kara.

He shrugged and answered it.

_“Peter?”_ said the voice on the other hand. _Holy geez! I thought you were–never mind, never mind. Check it: me and Holls–“_

There was a shuffling noise, like someone was trying to grab the phone.

_"Don't call me that, dude,”_ said another voice.

The first voice let out a nervous laugh.

_“Whoops,”_ they said. _“Uh, right. Anyways, me and Holls–Hollyhock–Holly–are kinda in some deep trubs, so…”_

More shuffling, a cry of protest, and finally the sound of someone being shoved. The other voice started speaking again, but louder this time.

_“Too slow, my dude,”_ said the other voice. _“Look, everything's bonzo-beans over here and we need to know where you peeps are, okay? Is the sky all weird where you guys are?”_

Jake stared at the phone. He'd recognized the first voice immediately. But he was afraid to say anything, half-wondering if this was like those flashes. Maybe Jake was hallucinating because he'd spent so long trapped in his own head. Auditory hallucinations were a thing, right?

_“You there?”_ said the other voice. _“For real, you need to tell us. We're freaking out. There's–”_

There was a crash, an inhuman roar, and the sound of grunting. Jake's stomach flipped over.

_“Yeah, that,”_ said the voice, presumably Hollyhock _“That's happening. That is very much happening.”_

Hollyhock cried out and there was the sound of something being thrown. This was followed by another roar and a pained whimper.

_“Heck yes!”_ said Hollyhock. _“Take that, ya butt!”_

She spent the next minute pumping her fists–or at least that was what it sounded like–and cheering.

Jake swallowed. _No._ He couldn't do this. He needed to hang up. He needed to hang up and pretend he hadn't heard anything. Jake wanted to help? Well, this was how he could help. By making sure Finn stayed away.

More noises. Shuffling, yelling, Finn's voice, more whimpers and roars, smashing glass. Hollyhock grunting, what sounded like an arrow being fired, furniture falling or being thrown. It sounded like total chaos. And Jake was frozen, listening to the anarchy unfold.

Hollyhock finally returned, breathless.

_“So where are you dudes?”_ said Hollyhock.

Jake clutched the blanket. This wasn't a decision he wanted to make. It wasn't a decision he _could_ make. Jake told himself that he could do this without being selfish. And maybe he could have, a few minutes ago.

Maybe if this call had never happened, he could be the most unselfish person in the world. Anything was possible.

* * *

Hollyhock slammed the phone back into its cradle. She didn't even think that ancient thing was going to work. It looked like it hadn't been used in decades. Who even used a landline anymore? But for once, Hollyhock was endlessly grateful for Simon being a total weirdo.

She loaded another arrow into her bow and fired. The shot hit one of the flesh creatures right in the eye–or _one_ of its many eyes–and it shrieked in pain. Its hands and feet flailing, it fell backwards through the window.

Hollyhock grimaced. _Dammit._ The salt didn't do anything. That made sense. Those things weren't ghosts or demons or anything like that. They were living beings, or at least they _had_ been. Hollyhock wasn't sure what those things were now, but it wasn't really _living._ More like walking nightmares.

Finn raised the baseball bat above his head and slammed it down. Over and over again. Thank god there wasn't any blood. It was like hitting a weirdly rigid stuffed animal or a tube of slightly hardened dough. But the bat did the trick. The creature retreated through the crack in the door it was trying to crawl through and Finn slammed the door shut.

He put all the locks back in place, his hands shaking. Definitely not the most elegant or badass way to deal with those creatures. But they'd basically been ambushed. Hug Wolves? Sure. Weird deer-creatures? Creepy, but okay. Disgusting mounds of flesh, limbs, and eyes? Brand new ballpark.

Simon's house was massive, almost a labyrinth. There were way too many doors and windows, secret entrances that Finn couldn't even find. Those creatures had a million different ways to break in. Finn and Hollyhock just had to pray that didn't happen, but Finn and Hollyhock weren't betting on it.

“What did Peter say?” said Finn. “Is he coming to save our buns?”

He rushed to board up the broken window.

Hollyhock picked up an expensive vase. She hefted it in her hands, feeling out the weight. Her arrow supply was dangerously low. It was _already_ dangerously low, but now Hollyhock was one hundred percent sure that she was boned. Fortunately, Hollyhock was great at throwing things.

“Your brother's alive,” said Hollyhock.

Another creature–possibly the same one Hollyhock had shot, but she legitimately couldn't tell–was trying to squeeze through the window. Hollyhock hurled the vase at it. The vase hit the creature and it pitched backwards.

Finn paused, the makeshift boards spilling out of his arms.

“Wait, really?” he said.

It wasn't like he thought Jake was dead. “Possessed” and “dead” were totally different, right? But Finn had been expecting bad news. He felt like finding that audio cassette was fate or something, a sign that something bad and irreversible was going to happen and he needed to carry on the family legacy.

Hollyhock nodded, picking up another vase.

“Yep,” said Hollyhock. “He had Peter's phone, I guess? He said we, um, absolutely should not come to the house in the orchard. Like, we should absolutely not do that.”

Finn sighed. Yeah, that sounded like Jake.

“So we're gonna do that, right?” said Hollyhock. “We're totes going, right?”

She sounded slightly desperate. On the one hand, she'd promised to keep Finn safe. And that meant staying by Finn's side. But if Finn refused to leave the house? Hollyhock was totally fine with just leaving him there. Well, _mostly_ fine. A part of her would have felt super guilty. But staying in that house was a pretty dumb idea at this point. Yeah, they were safer in the house than out there with those things. But for how long? Finn and Hollyhock couldn't board up _everything._

Finn dropped the boards and picked up the baseball bat. If this really was the end of the world, there was no way he was spending it trapped in Simon's house. He needed to be with his brother. He needed to know the truth about his family, if Jake could tell him that.

“Totes,” he said.

Finn sprinted into the kitchen and dumped out his backpack. They didn't have a lot of time. Those creatures were pounding at the doors and windows, ready to swarm. There was only one thing that Finn needed to grab before they headed out.

He went into Simon's treasure room and took the crown. Finn wasn't sure what he expected to do with it. Probably nothing. There was no way he was putting that thing on his head. But Finn felt kind of weird just leaving it there. And if the crown could give them some kind of magical advantage, he wasn't going to miss his opportunity. What was that thing Bonnie always said? About how he needed to be smarter? Well, Finn had finally done something that would have made Bonnie proud: he stopped for a minute, considered his options, and planned for the future.

Hollyhock clapped Finn on the back.

“We kind of have to, you know, get the heck out,” said Hollyhock. “If you're ready, dude.”

Finn hoisted the backpack onto his shoulders and grunted. The crown didn't weigh a lot, but there was other stuff in there. Finn hoped that all the sharp objects–mostly kitchen knives–and the pudding cups wouldn't damage the crown. But Finn had his priorities.

“Yeah, I'm ready,” said Finn.

_Weird._ This was hands-down the most terrifying situation of Finn's life, but it had also turned into a wonderful learning experience. He understood why it was never going to work out with Bonnie and he was finally getting over his pointless little crush on her. And he was starting to consider what he wanted to do with his life.

Who knew the apocalypse could be so enlightening?


	27. Reality and Stuff

Bonnie collapsed against the wall, her chest heaving.

Good news: the front door was officially barricaded. Her and Marcy–mostly Marcy, the supernaturally strong vampire–had shoved the fridge in front of the door, totally blocking it. Another problem solved. Two hundred more to go. Bad news: they were completely trapped in the cottage. _Completely_ trapped. Peter peeked through the mostly-barricaded window and confirmed it: yep, totally trapped.

“Son of a blee-blop!” said Marcy.

She smacked the fridge with her palm. Just in case anyone missed it, she wanted to reiterate how _absolutely crap_ this situation was. Whatever happened to being safe?

Marcy grabbed both sides of her head. _Safe._ What a wild concept. She was a freaking _vampire,_ for stars' sake. What was she so scared of?

She hugged herself. No, she wasn't scared of dying. That was kind of impossible, unless she got a stake through the heart. But what about her friends? What about Peter and Angel and Kara and Rain and everyone else? What about _Bonnie?_ Stupid fragile humans. They were all ready to fight, ready to survive or die. But they barely had any weapons, most of them were injured, and there was no way Marcy could protect everyone with her awesome vampire strength.

Bonnie walked over to Marcy and touched her shoulder. She didn't say what they were both thinking: they were all boned. Completely and definitely boned.

Kara winced, looping an arm around her waist. _Crap._ Did she have a broken rib? She felt like she'd broken _something,_but she couldn't be sure. At least the salve Rain was rubbing on her arms and legs was helping with the pain.

“We could go out the back?” said Kara.

According to Angel and his parents, the back of the house was clear. No creatures out there. Not yet. It was their only escape route.

Marcy leaned against Bonnie's chest, blowing out air through her nose. Escaping seemed like the opposite of a good plan. Even if they made it out, what exactly were they supposed to do? Where could they go? Marcy's house in the middle of nowhere? Marcy's house was probably safer than the cottage–hidden _and_ secured–but it was also miles away. They were never going to make it.

“Aw geez,” said Jake. “Our buns are toasted, huh?”

Peter handed Jake a rolling pin.

“Not necessarily,” he said.

He passed a kitchen knife to Bonnie and took one for himself. The waiting was the worst part. The house wasn't exactly a fortress. Eventually, those creatures would smash a window or something and the swarming would start. But until that happened, Peter was basically just handing out weapons and silently praying for a quick painless end.

“What about Finn and Hollyhock?” said Bonnie.

She immediately regretted saying that. Bonnie couldn't believe she was putting their lives in the hands of two teenagers.

Marcy laughed, even though she'd been thinking the same thing. It was incredibly messed up. A bunch of adults praying for help from a couple of kids. She was pretty sure Finn didn't even have a driver's license.

“Great idea, Bonnibel,” said Marcy. “Hope they show up with a van and a flamethrower.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes.

“Have a better idea, genius?” said Bonnie.

Marcy opened her mouth to say something incredibly rude. She didn't want to pick a fight–not with Bonnie–but she was stressed out and she desperately needed to vent. Marcy realized this was all her fault. Sure, it was mostly the Lich and Betty. But Marcy felt like she'd willed it subconsciously. Bonnie had been completely detached from all of this, cheerfully oblivious to the horrors lurking in the dark corners of her reality.

Bonnie frowned.

“Marcy?” she said.

Marcy didn't answer. She was sniffling into the front of Bonnie's shirt, her face squished into the soft fabric. All of the angry words had evaporated in her throat like steam. Because she didn't mean any of them.

“This is all my fault,” said Marcy.

Bonnie stroked Marcy's hair, shrugging.

“Well, yeah, some of it,” said Bonnie. “But this isn't all you, Marceline. It's the Lich. And that donking thing in the sky. And Betty. It's all just nutso-bonkers.”

Marcy lifted her head. She knew Bonnie was right. It _was_ all just nutso-bonkers. They had zero control over this chaos. Blaming herself felt better than admitting that.

Jake clapped his hands together.

“So what's–?” he started.

He was cut off by an unearthly shriek.

Jake pitched backwards off his chair as the ground rumbled. He tried to scramble to his feet, but another rumble sent him tumbling again. He lay there on his back like a turtle, listening to the pots and pans rattling on their hooks. Jake felt a tremor spike through the floorboards. The air buzzed and hissed with invisible electricity.

“What the blee-blop?” said Bonnie.

She grabbed the fridge to keep herself steady. Was it an earthquake? A donking _earthquake?_ That made sense. The day was already been completely bonkers. Why not throw a natural disaster into the mix? It couldn't possibly get any worse.

Bonnie almost laughed. She shouldn't have said that. Bonnie had basically given the universe permission to start flinging shit at her. Rookie mistake.

Peter pried a board off the nearest window and peeked outside.

“They're leaving,” he said.

He should have sounded relieved, but he was terrified. The creatures that had been surrounding the cottage were retreating, disappearing in the opposite direction. But the creatures weren't just bailing. They were _sprinting._ Moving as fast as their legs or mismatched limbs could carry them.

A shudder skittered up Bonnie's spine. The amalgamations were one thing, but the wolves and everything else? Those things had left their natural habitats, their hunting patterns completely thrown off. They must have sensed some kind of wrongness in the air. Something that scared them away from their homes. Or maybe they had flocked to Golb's location like worshipers, recognizing Golb as something far beyond themselves. So what had made them run away?

“Oh my _crease,_” said Peter. “What the math is _that_?”

Bonnie's stomach dropped. She heard the raw fear in Peter's voice first, his actual words second. Whatever was out there, it was ten times spookier than Golb.

Marcy and Jake–mostly Marcy–were moving the fridge. It was probably a dumb idea, but they had to go outside and see what Peter was talking about. They had to know why all those creatures had fled. It was already the end of the world. How much worse could it get? What could possibly be out there?

Peter backed away from the window, the kitchen knife still in his hand. Not that he needed it anymore. When Peter saw all those creatures running way, he thought–for a split second, a lapse in logic–that things were finally ending. Survival or destruction, this chapter of Peter's life was wrapping up. But of course it was never that simple. The Lich, Golb, the end of the world. It could never be straightforward.

Jake yanked open the front door and ran outside. Rain was right behind him, a butter knife in one hand and a vial of salt in the other. Kara stumbled out after them, wincing at her injuries. Angel and his parents remained in Angel's bedroom, too scared to go outside.

Marcy, Bonnie, and Peter were the last ones outside. Peter dropped the knife as he exited last.

Bonnie stumbled backwards into Marcy, her mouth hanging open in shock. She almost didn't know what she was seeing. It was like walking into a room with green walls, except someone had repainted while she was gone and now three of the walls were a deep blood red. The fourth wall remained unchanged, a reminder of what existed in Bonnie's memories. But it was difficult to focus on the green wall. Nothing else existed in Bonnie's head, other than her perfectly-crafted metaphor.

Marcy grabbed Bonnie's shoulders, both to steady herself and hold Bonnie up.

“Breathe, Bonnibel,” she said.

That was easy for her to say. If Marcy's lungs had worked, they probably would have stopped at that exact moment. She couldn't blame Bonnie for feeling lightheaded. Marcy's mind was spinning itself into a frenzy as she tried to understand what she was seeing. It couldn't be real, it had to be a hallucination or a mirage.

Kara barked out a laugh, her sanity slipping for a minute. This had to be a joke. The universe was pranking them.

Bonnie swallowed. No, this made perfect sense. Golb was the most powerful being in the universe, or at least _one_ of the most powerful beings. It was like a battery with infinite energy, a phone that never lost its charge. Through Golb, almost all things were possible. It was what ancient humans would have easily mistaken for a god. By strict definition, it _was_ a god. A god with a devoted following.

It was all Betty's plan. Betty hadn't been lying. She _was_ trying to change everything, to fix everything. But there was only one perfect band-aid solution to their dozens of problems.

The air shimmered and sparked. Bonnie felt like she'd walked into a microwave.

A rip had opened up. It was like someone had torn the fabric of reality wide open. And through that rip, Bonnie could see a completely different sky. She could see trees, grass, a barn. She could see birds. And Bonnie could see someone–a person she only slightly recognized–sitting in a rocking chair, a flute pressed against his lips.

Jake stepped forward. The blanket slipped off his shoulders and tumbled to the ground.

“Finn?” said Jake.

But the other Finn–the one they could see through the rip–didn't answer. He didn't seem to notice the weirdness happening a few inches away from him. He continued blowing away on his flute. There was a man sitting cross-legged at his feet, his back turned.

Rain took a step forward, holding the vial of salt to her chest. The butter knife slipped out of her hand.

“Jake?” she said.

But she wasn't talking to _her_Jake. She was looking through the rip, staring at the Jake sitting cross-legged at Other Finn's feet.

Bonnie closed her eyes. _Of course._ Of course Betty needed Golb. Of course she needed the Enchiridion. Golb was the only creature strong enough to punch a hole through their reality. And the Enchiridion was the only book in existence that told Betty how to do it.


End file.
